Looking Out For You: A Mellark Story part 2
by FireflyLlama
Summary: Sequel to part 1 of the series... Peeta may have survived the Hunger Games, but he's far from safe. The Quarter Quell is looming. How will Zinny cope when both her much loved brother and best friend, Finnick, are thrown into the arena for the 75th Games?
1. Welcome to His World

**A/N- Ahh it's here... part 2 of my three-part story!**

**This part is based along the time of the second book, so there will be the dreaded Quarter Quell!**

**I couldn't help myself, so I leaped right into writing this, shortly after finishing part 1. I hope you liked the first part, well you must, otherwise you wouldn't be reading the next part. So, enough with my rambling and I hope you like the beginning of part 2...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. I only own Zinny and Ethan (oh and Queenie from previous story)**

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><p>I peeped through the small, rectangular window of the bathroom. I couldn't see much, as a thick cloud of steam filled most of the space inside. I could just make out the shower in the far corner of the room, the patterned curtains pulled tightly across the glass door. As of the steam, the closed curtain and the distant sound of trickling water, I'm guessing whoever lives here is in the shower.<p>

"Psst" I whisper quietly, "Coast is clear here, she's in the shower"

I wait patiently for the response, and seconds later, I hear it.

"Same here, no one in the lounge" Says the reply, hushed but clear enough for me to hear.

"Safe for me to join?" I ask, longing to move from my cramped position.

"Yup, come quickly though" The reply comes back .

I take in a deep breath and squeeze myself out from between the two branches of the tree I'm sat in. It's a bit of a struggle to swing my legs around in the narrow gap, so I scrape my knee a few times and end up with scattered grazes decorating my legs. Little flecks of blood dot around on the cuts, but nothing major spews out. Thank goodness.

Once I've manoeuvred myself from the branches, I drop down the side of the tree, landing softly on the ground, without so much as a cracked twig to disturb the peace. I brush myself down lightly, then casually creep back to Ethan, who's ducked behind a wall.

"Nice tree descending" He whispers in my ear as I crouch to join him.

"Thanks" I mumble back, "Nice wall hiding"

He laughs quietly, his lips forming a smile that turns to a cheeky grin.

"Ok, so what's the plan now?" I ask, still whispering.

"The plan is as follows" He replies, "I pick the dodgy lock, while you keep a look out. Then we sneak in and search for clues"

"And the clues would be...?" I query, unsure what we're supposed to be looking for.

"Anything. Just things that suggest how she's paying for male company when she's meant to be barely scraping by these days" He answers back.

"Ok then... I guess we'll just have to see what's inside when we get there" I say.

"Yup, that's the plan" He says, nodding his head in agreement.

We wait, crouched behind the wall for a few minutes, while Ethan runs through the 'plan'. It's not much of a plan, to be honest, it's basically break in, snoop and run. Sounds simple enough. Until you actually come to doing it.

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><p>"Ok... one...two..." Ethan counts, "Three"<p>

On the word 'three', we both spring up from behind the wall, leap over a small gap and creep up to the door, cautious with our footing. When we make it to the door without any unwanted attention, Ethan pulls out a metal contraption and begins to unlock the door. While he's doing this, I keep a look out for any signs of witnesses. So far, it's all safe.

"Hurry up, I thought you said the lock was dodgy" I hiss at him.

"I thought it was..." He whispers back. "Ah, done it"

The lock makes a satisfying click and the door swings open. I tense up, expecting someone to come running and catch us, except no one does. We've made it so far.

"Ok, we're going in" Ethan says in a hushed voice, "Be careful and don't make a sound"

I nod and we step into the house. I scan my eyes around and can see that we've broken into the lounge of the house. The room is quite small and simple, bearing only the necessities of an average lounge; a cushioned sofa, a low wooden coffee table, a cabinet, a large TV screen and various decorative photos and ornaments. As I said, it's fairly simple.

Ethan carefully shuts the door behind us, not making even the slightest creak. He's obviously done this before and I'm not sure whether I should be pleased or worried. Although, at this moment in time I think I'm pleased. I'd much rather be doing this with someone with experience... even if he's a bit too interested in the likes of myself in most of the time that we're together.

"Ok, I'll go check over by the TV" Ethan whispers in my ear. "You go look in the cabinet"

"On to it, _boss_" I reply, adding a little salute for extra character.

"Was that supposed to be sarcasm?" He asks, his arms folded across his broad chest.

"Course not, I'm just obeying my orders" I wink at him, just to wind him up a little. I see his eyebrows raise slightly, before he turns and goes to inspect the area around the TV.

I walk over to the cabinet, stepping lightly to avoid making any sudden noises that could potentially ruin our plans. Quickly slipping my hands into the soft black gloves Ethan gave me, I turn the handle of the cabinet. It swings open and I peer inside.

It's quite bare inside, for a cabinet. I was expecting a little more than just a few pots and papers. I raise my height by standing on my toes, edging a little further into the cabinet to reach the higher shelves. My fingers trace across the tops of the piles of paper, feeling for anything suspicious. My fingertips finally come across a book shaped object and I pull it down from the shelf. It's a notebook. The cover is a plain, faded red and there's no title. This strikes me as suspicious. However, just as I'm about to look inside, a small crash comes from the other side of the room. I turn sharply and see Ethan clutching to the lid of a pot, the rest of it smashed on the floor beside him.

"Shit" He mumbled, assessing the damage caused.

"What have you done?" I hiss, careful not to make any more noise.

"Dunno, I was just looking and knocked it off, I think" He replies, still clutching the lid.

I'm about to complain about his clumsiness, when a noise stops me in my tracks. We both fall deadly silent as the sound of heavy footsteps came from above our heads.

"Someone's coming!" I say, starting to panic.

"Great... Ok, I'll just shove this under the table, then scram" He says, quickly kicking the broken pieces of pottery under the table.

I turn back and close the cabinet, still holding the notebook. The footsteps come again, this time louder. They must be coming down the stairs. Without hesitation, I shove the little notebook into a pocket and look over to Ethan, who's brushing the final pieces of broken pottery under the table.

"Ethan, we've gotta go - now! I whisper sharply, my eyes looking towards the stairs.

"I know, I know. C'mon, let's get outta here" He replies, heading towards the door.

I swiftly, but cautiously make my way across the room and reach the door, escaping outside just in time. Ethan doesn't have time to fix the lock properly, so he just shuts the door behind him and nods to run.

"Who's there?" A sharp voice echoes from inside the house.

We don't look back as we take off down the back garden, stumbling over a few plants on the way. Ethan reaches the wall within seconds, shortly followed by myself. He turns and cups his hands in front of the wall. I place my foot on his hands and he boosts me up the wall. I scramble over quickly, almost losing my balance a few times. I at last get over the side safely and land on the other side, tripping as I do and falling onto the ground below. Ethan quickly scales up the wall and jumps down beside me.

"No time for a rest sweetie, they'll be on our trail" He says, offering me his hand.

"Sorry, _boss_" I reply, taking his hand and he swiftly pulls me to my feet.

He rolls his eyes at me, "Whatever, let's go - quick"

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><p>My heart beats fast with adrenalin. The owner of the house got out quite quickly, so we had to leg it fast. We've darted in and out of crowds, occasionally bumping into the odd person here and there. A few people called out insults to us, but we were sprinting so fast that we were too far to hear ay of them. Oh well. Thinking about it, we couldn't have looked any more guilty, but still, it's all part of the fun.<p>

Ethan takes a sudden turn down an alleyway and I follow him, starting to feel tired from all the running. He stops at the end of the path and leans against the wall, catching his breath again. I walk up beside him, also resting against the wall. He wipes his forehead, dampening the back of his hand with his light sweat. I lean my head against the solid wall and gaze up into the gap between the buildings. Only small rays of light escape through the gap, making the alleyway quite dim.

I can hear Ethan's breaths, deep and often. They're gradually slowing down as he catches his breath again. I notice that I'm breathing at the same time as him.

We stay there for a few moments, just listening to our simultaneous breathing patterns and cooling ourselves down in the shade. It's pretty hot outside today, with the sky clear and the sun blaring down on the ground. There's not much of a breeze either, making the air sticky and clammy.

"Hot today, isn't it?" I finally break the silence.

"Hmm, yeah. That's probably the reaction you get from standing near me" Ethan replies, grinning.

I shove his arm sharply, but I'm grinning too. "You're not that great looking you know"

"That's what you would say if..." He shrugs, still grinning.

"If I was what? Desperately in love with you?" I ask, folding my arms tightly across my body.

"Maybe" He replies.

"Maybe? What's that supposed to mean?" I query, eyebrows raised.

"I mean, you're so clearly attracted to me" He says, as if it's a proven fact.

Which it's not. Exactly.

"What makes you think that?" I ask, a hint of sarcasm present in my tone.

"It's just obvious" He says, shrugging his shoulders.

"No it's not. You seem way more interested in the likes of my ass, rather than the other way round" I protest.

"Just cuz I share my thoughts and you don't, it doesn't mean you don't like me" He says.

"I don't... I don't_ like _you. Not like that, anyway" I tell him, not looking in his direction.

"Really?" He quizzes.

"Yup, rea-" I begin to reply, but I'm stopped by his sudden movement.

Ethan shifts quickly from his position against the wall and now stands in front of me. His hazel eyes look down into mine, making me feel slightly nervous. When I don't react, he moves in closer to my body. His body practically pressing against mine, and his arms either side of me, pushing against the wall I'm leaning against. I still don't move.

I can feel his heated breath on my cheek, tickling my skin and sending flutters down my veins. One of his hands pulls from the wall and takes hold of a strand of my hair, twirling it around his finger. When he releases it, the hair hangs in a loose curl on the side of my face. His finger moves to my jaw line, tracing it softly. His touch sends even more flutters down my body. It feels soothing, but risky at the same time.

"Really?" He repeats in a low, husky voice. He's taunting me, but I can't stop myself from falling for it.

His finger climbs up to my lips and he slowly brushes it across them, before removing his hand from my face. It's only when I no longer feel his direct touch, that I notice how close he is to me. His chest is dangerously close to my body that I can almost feel his heart beating. His eyes are now staring deeply into mine. And his lips are dangerously close to mine.

So close, they eventually touch.

I don't pull back from him, I just carry on allowing his lips to stay on mine. I think I'm incapable of letting go, it just feels so perfect right now. Him against me. Me against him. Letting our lips communicate in silence feels better than talking. A lot better.

His hands now rest on my hips, closing over my small waist and holding me safe. My own hands are draped over his shoulders, my fingers intertwined with his thick hair, winding it round in my fingers like he did to mine. This feels right.

We go on for minutes, enjoying each other's scent and touch. I'm completely lost as we stand in the alleyway, locked in an embrace. After several minutes, we finally pull apart. My heart has slowed down dramatically and my breaths are now easy and calm. I look up at Ethan, him seeming the same as me. _Different._

"That was...um..nice..." He murmurs, fiddling with my hair again.

"Yeah, it was" I say back, murmuring too.

"We should probably get back, Monroe will be wondering where we are" He whispers in my ear.

"I suppose" I agree.

"Are we gonna tell him?" He asks.

"Do you want to?" I ask.

"He might not like it..." He says uncertainly.

"Well, what he doesn't know won't kill him, right?" I decide, placing my hands back on his shoulders.

"Decided" He agrees, putting his hands around my waist again.

He then pulls me in to his body and kisses me firmly on the lips.

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><p><strong>AN- Aha, another love interest for Zinny... could this cause a few problems later on in the tale? Keep reading to find out!**

**So yeah, if you like what you've read or fancy making my day, please REVIEW x**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	2. Questions

**A/N- Right, rolling on with chapter 2! I couldn't leave it there, so I'm revealing more about Ethan and Zinny...**

**I hope you like the next chapter!**

**I don't own the Hunger Games, as you already know.**

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><p>"That's it; a notebook?" Monroe asks for the billionth time. "Nothing else?"<p>

"Yes, nothing else. Just the notebook" We reply in unison.

"And the notebook is empty?" He asks, his mouth full of food. God, I wish he'd stop doing that. It's disgusting; for a man of his wealth, it surprising that he can't even afford some table manners. It's laziness really.

"Yes" We groan again, bored with answering the same questions over and over again.

"So, there was nothing else?" He asks us again.

"No!" We both exclaim, completely fed up with this. It's like a broken record, the same bit repeating so much that you end up saying it in your sleep.

"Sorry... I just don't see how she can afford the service" He shrugs, before taking a large swig of wine.

Ethan and I breathe a sigh of relief, glad to finally continue our meals without being asked the same questions we've answered so many times. I pick up my cutlery and begin to eat my dinner, which consists of a few thick slices of pink beef, several steaming roast potatoes, a helpful of crunchy vegetables and enough gravy to fill a swimming pool. A large glass of wine also sits by my plate, barely touched. I'm not particularly fond of alcohol, but I sip at it to be polite.

Also, I hardly ate when I first moved in here; it didn't feel right; going from just enough food to survive, to eating a grand feast each meal time. But now, after living here for a few months, I've settled into proper eating habits and accepted that the people of the Capitol eat like this all the time. I'm not living in District 12 anymore. This is my home now, so I'd better start acting like I do live here.

We collapse into a state of silence, just focusing on eating our dinner. Ethan and I exchange a few awkward looks over the period of the meal, catching him looking at me, and him catching me doing the same. Luckily Monroe doesn't seem to notice the tension between us. I'm still in sight shock from our 'incident'. We kissed in an alleyway just a few hours ago!

"Right, that's me done for tonight" Monroe stands up, wiping his mouth with his napkin, "I've got some calls to make, so I'll see Zinnia later and you, Ethan, tomorrow"

"Ok, see you then" Ethan replies as Monroe exits the room, already pulling out his phone to dial a number.

He turns back to me and grins. "So... what should we do now, gorgeous?"

"Stop calling me that, and I'm not sure" I reply.

"Don't pretend you don't love it" He says, walking over to me.

"I'm not pretending" I insist.

"You can't tell me you don't like compliments" He says, taking hold of my arms in his warm hands.

"Well, I never said that..." I contemplate, stroking my fingers gently across his arm.

"Good, cuz I'm gonna keep dishing them out" He grins, pulling me out the room.

He takes me through the lounge, quickly releasing my arms when he sees Monroe sitting on the sofa, whispering into his phone. Once we've passed through the lounge, he takes my arms again and pulls me down the corridor. He kicks open my bedroom door with his foot and I'm drawn into the room.

He sits me down on the bottom of the bed while he goes over and closes the door. Once it's closed, he strolls over to me and stands in front of me, urging me to stand up too.

"C'mon Zinny, I've missed youuu" He pleads.

"It's only been, like, two hours!" I reply, tossing back my hair that has fallen across my shoulders.

"I love it when you do that" He declares.

"Do what?" I ask.

"Flip your hair back" He replies.

"Seriously? We kissed once, you're not in love with me or anything" I say. "So why act all weird?"

"I'm not being weird...I've liked you for ageees and finally you've admitted you like me too. So why not act nice?" He quizzes me.

"I never said don't..." I say, then realise what he just said. "Wait, you liked me for ages?"

"Yeah, course. I wasn't being pervy when I made those comments about you, I did really like you" He says.

"Oh, right... well ok then" I shrug, unsure what I'm meant to say. If I'm meant to say anything.

"_Ok then?_ That's it?" He exclaims.

_Oops.. wrong thing..._

"What else did you want me to say?" I ask.

"Hmm.. nothing" He replies in his low voice.

I'm given no choice but to stand up, as Ethan takes my hands and pulls me up. He then places his own hands around my waist and pulls me in closer. I keep my fingers rested on his biceps, feeling them tighten and loosen as he breathes. It's quite relaxing, standing here, holding each other and I feel as if I could stay like this all night. Except, of course, I can't.

Ethan removes one of his hands from my waist and cups it under my chin, then tilts his head to the left, leans down and kisses my lips. I'm instantly greeted again by the same sparks of energy and the flowing feeling of warmth that I had felt the first time we kissed. I still liked it and the more I felt it, the more I longed for.

As we kissed, I felt myself slowly falling back onto the bed. It was a soft, cushioned landing that made me feel even more comfortable. Ethan followed my movement, stopping a few inches above me, but his lips still against mine. It wasn't long before I felt his hand move from my waist and stroke along my stomach. His touch was soft, gentle and slightly ticklish as his fingers swirled around in patterns across my smooth skin. His fingers soon began to climb up my stomach, edging towards my bra, slowly but surely. When they rested, just inches away, I tensed my body.

"What's wrong?" Ethan asked, obviously feeling my reaction.

His hand moved from my body as I sat up on the bed, a hot, sickly feeling rising up inside of me.

"Umm... sorry, I...I... I can't do this" I stutter, my heart beats increasing by the second. "I'm sorry"

"No_, I'm_ the one that should be apologising" Ethan cut in. "It's _my_ fault"

"It's mine too" I insist.

"No, Zinny. I'm sorry" He stands up, running his hands through his dark hair. "I'll just go now"

"Maybe it's best for tonight" I reply, feeling a little relieved with how he dealt with the situation.

"Yeah, bye then" He says, then turns and leaves the room, gently closing the door behind him.

As soon as I hear the front door close, I sigh deeply. I'm not really sure what just happened, but I think I did the right thing in stopping it from going further. I'm not quite sure why, but I feel slightly guilty. But, I have nothing to be guilty for. Do I? I don't have a boyfriend or anything, so why is my conscience trying to tell me something? Why do I feel a niggling at the back of my mind? I don't understand, but I must be doing something wrong... And why do I seem to chase away every guy that has ever got close to me? What's wrong with me?

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><p>It's about ten o'clock when I make an appearance in the lounge. Monroe is no longer making calls, but is sitting on the sofa watching TV. He's pretty much absorbed into whatever is being said on the channel, as he doesn't notice my presence until I speak.<p>

"Hey" I say, taking a seat next to him.

He looks over to me, "Oh, hi Zinnia. Didn't hear you coming"

"What are you watching?" I ask, wondering what could be so interesting.

"Oh, it's just President Snow talking about the next Quarter Quell" He replies, turning back to the screen.

"Oh yeah, that's in a few months, isn't it?" I question.

"Yup" He says, still focusing on the TV.

I nod and look to the screen myself to see what's in store for the next Hunger Games. It will be the 75th Games this year, making it the third Quarter Quell. I've never been alive to see any of the Quells, as they happen every 25 years, but I've heard they're really huge. The last Quell, the 50th Games, they doubled the amount of tributes, so there were 48 in the arena. That was the year Haymitch won, goodness knows how, he seems useless now. Oh well, he must have been good if he beat 47 others.

The show is talking about the excitement behind the next Quell and what the twist might be this year. Snow is being interviewed. When I see his fake smiling face and hear his manipulating voice, I begin to feel hotter inside. Just seeing him, pretending he's this great person, makes me want to scream inside. The act he plays is simply a disgusting attempt to hide his true personality. Only a few know what he's capable of, and those that have crossed him, will never be the same again. I know, because I'm one of those people.

The programme comes to an end and Monroe grabs the remote and the screen blackens. We're left in an awkward silence, neither of us knowing what to say. I stay sitting, just flickering my eyes around the perfectly ordered room. At first, I never thought of Monroe as such a tidy person, but after living with him for a while, I now know that he's obsessively neat. That's not too bad, I suppose. Although, I've never been a tidy person myself. Mother is probably glad to have the house clear of my messy ways. Glad to no longer have muddy footprints decorating the kitchen floor. Glad to no longer have the need to wash stained clothing and patch up the torn edges. Glad to no longer have to sweep up piles of scattered flour that's been left to cover the tiles. I've never been a tidy person, not in the slightest.

"Right, I'm off to bed" Monroe declares, rising from the sofa.

"Yeah, me too" I agree and stand up too.

"Well, goodnight then" He says.

"Night" I reply.

There's an awkward shuffle between us as we make our separate ways. I glance behind me as I open the door and enter the bedroom. Monroe's gone into his room and the door is closed firmly behind him. I sigh and close my door too, shutting out the rest of the world.

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><p>I lie awake in the bed, staring up at the ceiling that hangs above me. I can't seem to switch my brain off tonight; thoughts keep me wide awake and alert. I seem to be thinking of everything and everyone tonight. I first begin to wonder about my family back in twelve and how Peeta is after becoming a victor. His victory tour ended a few months ago, so he must be settling into his new life in his new house, with his new clothes, new belongings and new identity. I really do hope that he hasn't changed too much; the Games would have obviously scarred him, but hopefully not totally destroying his true self. The true self that I miss so, so much.<p>

I also think about Finnick; wondering whether he still thinks of me, now I've gone. In some context, I've left him, alone in that horrible life of being sexually used, alone without anyone to help him escape from his living nightmares. I feel awful for it, but really, I couldn't do anything to help the situation. I did what I did to save Peeta and that's that. Finnick made his choice and I made mine. There's no turning back, no matter how hard I cry and cling on to the memories.

Strangely, tonight I even think about Gale. About the good times we shared in the past, when we were... maybe not so, _'in love'_. Although I now know that none of it was truly real, it still felt real to me at the time. I think about how he made me happy and those were the times when I used to smile; when I was happy with my life, with no stress and no problems. When the only bad thing I saw was being reaped, but that never happened. I think about how he broke my delicate, teenage heart and even now, I still feel a burning hatred for him. Beneath my other feelings.

Last of all, I think about today. About my little adventure into the world of criminality and the thrill it gave me. The energy rush I'd experienced throughout the whole endeavour and what happened after that. The energy that turned into sparks of light, tickling my whole body when we kissed. When Ethan held me in his arms and how right it felt. But then, when we stood in my room, how it suddenly felt wrong. I still don't know why it felt wrong.

That's the thought that kept me awake that night.

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><p><strong>AN- Aww, I'm sorry I'm making things sad for Zinny, she doesn't seem to have muh luck withguys lately...**

**Well, let me know what you think about the pairing and the story so far! Keep reading and leave a nice review!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	3. A Shedfull Of Secrets

**A/N- Finally the school holidays are here, which means more writing time for meee! Yay.**

**Right, so I thought it was about time to reveal Ethan's background a bit, so now is the time.**

**I do not own The Hunger Games, got it?**

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><p>I sat alone for breakfast. Monroe had left me a note explaining is absence and Ethan hadn't even turned up. So I'm left, with just food to keep me company - and lots of it too. Without Monroe to guzzle down all the coffee or Ethan to eat all the croissants, I'm left with an unbelievable amount of unwanted cuisine. I don't feel like eating myself, so I sit there, slowly sipping at a mug of hot, rich coffee. It warms my empty stomach, but fails to relax my mind.<p>

I was up most of the night, lying awake and listening to the silence outside. It would have been peaceful, if I wasn't thinking about everything. Every little worry, every niggling feeling, entered my thoughts last night. For no reason, really. They just floated by, grabbing my attention and laughing when I couldn't block them out.

But, I must have gotten some sleep, however, not much. Maybe just a few minutes here and there; not enough though. Hence the coffee. I'm drinking it now by the gallon, forcing myself to wake up a little and face the day. I woke up late, wanting to stay in bed all day; but I knew I had to get up. I need to find Ethan.

I need to speak to him and explain, before I lose him as well.

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><p>The sun's bright today and it's light beams in my eyes, making me squint just to see where I'm going. The brightness took me by surprise, but I suppose I have been sitting in darkness for hours on end. I'm just not used to it yet.<p>

The heat from the blazing sun is also hot. Very hot. Humid and sticky on my skin as I walk away from the apartment.

The dry, concrete path rubs against my shoes, causing aches in my feet and the material digs into my heels. How people walk in these shoes every day without complaining is amazing. I only have to walk down a few yards before I'm practically limping to avoid the pain from them. Luckily, there's not many people in this area to witness my failed attempts at 'fitting in'.

Ignoring the throbbing in my feet, I continue to march down the roads, my head held high and my eyes peeled for any signs of Ethan. The heat is almost unbearable as the sun rises high for midday and trickles of sweat run down the back of my neck. I quickly tie my hair up in a bun to cool myself off a little, but it doesn't benefit me much. I'm beginning to feel the after effects of a bad night's sleep when I spot something.

The woman's house we took the notebook from.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the house. I'm no longer lost in the never ending rows of identical buildings... I've found a landmark! My pace quickens as I edge nearer to the wall that separates the garden from the city outside. When I reach the wall, I suddenly remember the notebook. It turns out that it wasn't blank at all. It was full of secrets. Big secrets.

It was late last night when I discovered the hidden writing within the pages. When I had lay awake, the notebook was open on the windowsill. I remember walking up to the window and pulling back the curtains, just staring out into the still night. It was after a while that I noticed the pages of the notebook were filled. I walked over to the book and held it up to the light of the moon and saw that someone had written inside.

It was hard to read in the limited light from the moon, so I had turned my lamp on to see better. However, when I placed it under the light, the writing had disappeared. Maybe not disappeared, but just invisible. It occurred to me that the writing was only visible under the light from the moon, making it only readable at night. When it was most likely to be forgotten about. Whoever wrote in it obviously wanted to keep it a secret from prying eyes. Little did they know that someone like me would discover their secret. Hmm, more discover like other people's secrets.

It turned out that the notebook was none other than a collection of secrets. From hidden affairs, to horrible truths. It was like a bitch book! Although I knew I shouldn't have, I still sat reading through all the secrets and lies that were revealed in the crisp pages. I didn't know most of the people mentioned, but a few names rung a bell in my head. Names of some of the Avox's I'd seen, including Clara. But the name that stuck most in my head was President Snow.

The secrets written about him were...were.. were horrific. But in a way, I always knew there was something deeper than his malicious comments, controlling mind and the smell of roses and blood in his breath. This just proves my theories. He is a wicked man.

I should be scared for myself, seeing that I only escaped his clutches because Monroe is my father. I should be scared at what might have happened to me if I carried on living there. What might have happened if I showed no fear towards him. But, I'm not scared for myself. I'm scared for Peeta and.. sort of scared for Katniss too.

Their stunt with the berries won't have made Snow particularly happy and he seems the sort of person to take these things personally. He could do anything in revenge, to show them who they're dealing with; and he would. Without a doubt, he would do something. Maybe not straight away, but sometime. Just like he does to everyone that crosses him.

I need to warn Peeta. I need to save him. But I need to find Ethan first.

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><p>I run down the road we ran down, searching for the alleyway. The sun still directly above me, beating down on my bare skin and making this harder than ever before. I'm parched; all the moisture evaporated from my mouth in the sweltering heat. Nevertheless, I run on and on, determined to find Ethan before sunset.<p>

At last, I reach the alleyway where we first kissed and anxiously turn to walk down it. Fortunately, it's in the shade down here, instantly cooling my overheated body. As of the shade, the alleyway is quite dark, but light enough to see where I'm walking. I walk along the side, step by step, heart beat by heart beat.

As I walk past the point where me and Ethan kissed, my stomach flips and my legs quiver slightly. I can't carry on for the moment, so I lean back against the wall; my head spinning. The world seems blurred around me and for a minute, I'm back here with Ethan. We're both exhausted from running, our faces flushed not only with the heat from the sun, but also from the heat between us both. I can feel him against me, holding me by the waist, letting me into his world. We're once again standing in the alleyway, in an unbreakable connection. It feels...

I open my eyes and realise that I'm alone in the alleyway. Ethan isn't holding me, isn't kissing me. I'm alone and without him. I feel a pang of disappointment when I understand that I was just having a flashback. A wonderful flashback all the same.

I take in a few gulps of hot, clammy air and walk on. I leave behind the memory and concentrate on where I'm going next. At the moment, the alleyway seems to end a few metres away, but I still walk anyway. I can see the wall, blocking any exit, but I still walk. I walk up to the wall and pause.

It's not just a wall I'm standing before. There's also a door. An unlocked door.

* * *

><p>The hinges squeak as the door swings open. I can tell that the door hasn't been used in a while, as the hinges are rusted and the paint on the wood has almost rotted away. But curiosity takes over again and I close the door behind me, heading further into the unknown. And the unknown seems to be the edge.<p>

A space of dried grass and overshadowing trees is the edge of the Capitol. The area beyond is blocked with a towering wall, that casts a shadow over half the space. Just as I'm about to turn back and continue my hunt, I spot a small wooden building between some of the trees. As I move closer, I can see that it's a shed. And sitting in front of it, is Ethan.

I practically stumble across the grass towards him and when I get nearer, he hears my footsteps and turns his head around.

"Zinny? What are you doing _here_?" Ethan asks, stunned to see me, clearly.

"Gee, thanks. Not quite the welcome I was expecting" I say, walking across to him.

"I didn't mean it like that" He shrugs, "I was just shocked to see you here"

"I was shocked to see _you_ here!" I exclaim.

"Is it that weird to see someone outside their house?" He asks.

I look to the shed, with it's dusty windows and hole filled roof. "You _live_ here?"

"Hard to believe, but yeah" He says, "Welcome to mi casa"

I reach him and sit down on the grass.

"Why do you live in a shed? Don't you live with your parents... or friends?" I question.

"My parents hate me and I have no friends... not anymore" He replies, looking to the ground.

"Really? Why?" I ask.

"Just something that happened when I was sixteen..." He trails off.

"What happened?"

"Doesn't matter"

"Yes it does. Tell me"

"You'll be bored"

"No, just tell me"

"Fine" He caves in to my persistence. Then takes a deep breath and begins.

"Well, I was sixteen and I met this group of people, around my age and older... And they seemed really cool and different to everyone else. They weren't all posh and rich, which was exactly what I was. So, we started hanging out and they taught me how to be like them... then one day they told me that they weren't from the Capitol"

"So they were from one of the Districts?" I ask.

"Yeah, and they said they had run away to achieve a better life, somewhere else. They spoke of another district they were heading to, but they needed access to the trains. But, they weren't allowed on, so I helped them smuggle onto one of the carts... I was going with them, until my parents found out and stopped me..."

"And they left without you?"

"Yeah, I never saw them again"

"What about your parents?"

"I started to rebel and got myself into trouble all the time. My parents couldn't deal with it anymore, so they kicked me out and disowned me, I guess. At the time I was glad to be rid of them; I thought I could get a place of my own... but this shed was the best I could get, as of my record. So yeah... I had a pretty rough time. My life was pretty shit, until I met Monroe and started working for him. It wasn't a proper job; mainly just doing dodgy stuff. But, I liked it, I guess.. especially when you turned up"

Ethan grinned at me and I smiled back, blushing slightly.

"Ethan" I begin. "I'm sorry about last night"

"No, I completely understand. I was just happy that I'd finally found someone that liked me for who I am, that I went too far" He says, looking at me with his soft, hazel eyes.

"I'm not a fan of false personalities. If I like someone, it's because of who they are" I say.

"Same here" He agrees.

"I guess we have two things in common then" I smile.

"Two things?" He queries, a confused expression on his face.

"We both hate fake personalities and..." I grin at him, "We both have complicated lives"

"I have to agree with that" He says, before adding, "To shit lives!"

"To shit lives" I join in, clinking our invisible champagne glasses together in a toast.

We both laugh and lie back in the grass. The blades poke through my toes as I kick off my shoes and rest my feet on the ground. I lean my head on Ethan's shoulder and I feel a smile form on his face. We both lie there, staring up into the cloudless sky and breathe as the minutes pass by.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Aww, I liked writing the ending, I thought it was quite cute really :D**

**Anyways, so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave a REVIEW, because I _need_ to know if you like it or not!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	4. Happy Early Birthday

**A/N- Sorry for not updating for a while! I forgot to mention that I was staying at my nan's for a few days...**

**Well, so as soon as I got back, I finished this chapter for you! Enjoy x**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, you know by now.**

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><p>The next morning, I wake with a smile on my face. Not a fake one, but a genuine smile. I sit up in bed, yawning and stretching out my arms.<p>

"Morning, sleepy head" Ethan says, walking into the room.

I yawn again and smile at him. "Morning"

He comes over and sits on the bed, beside me. His skin is shimmering with little droplets of water and his hair flops across his face, damp and darkened by water. The smell of coconut shampoo wafts from him, as he leans over and plants a light kiss on my cheek.

"Sleep well?" He asks, brushing my hair from my face.

"Great, thanks" I reply. "And you?"

"Fantastic" He grins at me, rising from the bed and walking to the door. "See you at breakfast"

The door shuts softly behind him and I tilt my head back, looking up to the ceiling. I'm still smiling; almost glowing with happiness and contentment. Last night had been my best since I moved in. I hadn't lay awake, thinking about what I couldn't have; I hadn't roused from nightmares every hour. I had slept peacefully, comforted by Ethan's arms. Well, that's what I'm lead to believe. Why else would he be here this early... and taking a shower?

After we left his place yesterday, we went back to Monroe's. He didn't suspect anything between us; just went on about the Quarter Quell for ages. Me and Ethan had sat, quietly, listening to Monroe's rambling about the significance of the Quell and how we're all going to be in for a surprise this year. When I asked him what the twist was, he had tapped his nose and told me to be patient. Pfft, so much for the rambling.

So, once dinner had ended, me and Ethan went back to my room. We'd ended up chatting far into the night, a little tipsy after the wine we drank at the meal. We had to drink a lot to get us through Monroe's lectures. To be honest, I can't really remember what happened last night. All I know now is that Ethan didn't go home...

* * *

><p>I walk into the breakfast room and take my usual seat. Monroe is already tucking into his morning supply of rich coffee and Ethan has already taken most of the croissants. Both of them look up when I sit down, smiling warmly at me. I smile back and pour myself a mug of coffee. This is new... all this smiling is starting to freak me out...<p>

"It's the Quell announcement today, right?" I start some conversation, avoiding the awkward smiles.

"Hmm, yes indeed. The third Quell already, I can't believe it's come so fast" Monroe speaks first, answering my question with utmost joy.

"I've never been alive for a Quarter Quell" I point out.

"Ah yes of course. You're only eighteen" Monroe says, nodding his head.

"Nineteen next week" I remind him.

"I didn't forget!" He exclaims, raising his finger and wagging it towards me. "I'm planning a big surprise for you, Zinnia"

"I look forward to it" I grin at him.

"Yes. As I was _saying..._" He continues his ramble about the Quell again.

He goes on about how the idea for the celebration of each 25 Hunger Games came to be and how all the Quell twists were already decided when the first Game launched. And blah, blah, blah.

"And so, today, the third Quarter Quell's twist shall be announced on live TV in exactly three hours, twenty-seven minutes and fifteen seconds" Monroe finished, checking his watch for accuracy.

_Obsessed much?_

"Yes, well we're all looking forward to it, Monroe. We would love to sit and chat about it some more, but I have to take Zinny to see a certain person" Ethan cuts in.

I look at him in confusion. _A certain person?_

"What?" I ask, bewildered with his last comment.

"Ah, let's just say it's a part of your birthday present" Monroe replies, glancing at Ethan with a knowing look.

"Yup, so you'd better get dressed and ready so I can take you to get it" Ethan says, pushing me out the room by my shoulders.

"But it's not my birthday 'till next week" I point out, as I'm taken to my room.

"Yes, but you need it _now_" Ethan says, leaving me in my room and slamming the door behind me.

_Ok then... Who could I possibly see to receive a birthday present from? Um... I have no idea._

* * *

><p>"Keep them closed, no peeking until I say so" Ethan orders me, his hand over my eyes, blocking my sight.<p>

"I can't see anything anyway!" I exclaim, tapping on his fingers.

"Good. That's the point" He says, guiding me slowly along.

"Where _are_ we going?" I ask.

"Just wait and see" He whispers in my ear.

I'm guided along a path of some sort, before entering a building. I know we're inside, as I heard a door open and the material of the ground feels different. Like I'm stepping on carpet. There's a few muffled whispers as Ethan continues to walk me round, still unable to see. It feels like we've been walking for hours when he finally stops.

"Ok, you can open your eyes now" He tells me, removing his hand from my face.

"Hurrah" I say, raising my eyelids and blink a few times to adjust to my new found sight.

I look around me and see that we're standing in a dressing room. A very messy one. There's mannequins everywhere, dressed in lavish dresses and matched with sparkling accessories and hats. A couple of large loungers sit in the centre of the room, facing a small stage. Small spotlights light up the catwalk, as well as the rays cast over the many outfits displayed around the room. The taste of perfume sticks in my throat as I stand, gawping at the fashions stood before my eyes. I cough a bit and Ethan laughs.

"Surprised much?" He laughs. "You're speechless"

"I'm not surprised... I'm confused" I reply. "Why are we here?"

"As we said; you're meeting someone" He remarks, taking me over to one of the lounges.

We both sit down and I face him.

"Who would we be meeting here?" I ask him, but he doesn't answer. Instead he just nods over to the door.

It opens and someone walks in. Their heels tap on the floor as they walk into the room. A tall, skinny woman enters and I can see black swirling patterns tattooed on her skin. _Queenie._

"Zinnia darling!" Queenie exclaims, tottering over to me in her ridiculously high heels.

"Queenie!" I say back, standing up to greet her.

She wraps her skinny arms around my neck and squeezes me tightly, almost strangling me.

"I missed you dear, so much!" She tells me, drawing back from me. "I was devastated when I heard that you had left"

"Really? You liked me that much?" I gasp, shocked with her comment.

"Of course, dearie! You were my favourite client" She says, smiling widely at me.

"Oh thanks, Queenie. I liked you a lot too" I say. "You made me look beautiful"

"And that's what I'm going to do again" She says, before adding. "This is a birthday present that Ethan and your father organised"

"A makeover?" I ask in disbelief.

"Not just a makeover..." She mutters, walking across the room to a hanging curtain. "There's a dress especially designed for you!"

Swiftly, she pulls the curtain across, revealing the dress. She claps her hands in delight as she watches my expression. It's...it's amazing.

The mannequin displays a dress of marine blue. It's a halter neck, with the top fitted up to the waist, then a long, flowing sea of material. The skirt of the dress is a paler shade of blue than the bodice and the material is in thin sheets that swish in the breeze. Around the whole dress, tiny sparkles catch the light and shimmer, creating an effect on the walls. I run to Queenie and hug her once more, pulling her in tightly this time.

"Oh my gosh, thank you soooo much! It's the most gorgeous dress I've ever seen!" I thank her.

"You're welcome, my dear. It was a pleasure making it" Queenie replies.

I let go, staring up at her in shock. "You... _made this_?"

"Indeed I did. Every last seam and sparkle was sewn by my very own hands" She tells me, holding out her long, bony fingers in front of me.

"Wow, this must have taken you ages!" I gasp.

"It did, but let me tell you one thing" She says, then bends down and whispers in my ear, "It was worth every second"

* * *

><p>"Hurry up Zinnia! You're going to miss it all!" Monroe shrieks from the lounge.<p>

"I'm coming" I yell back, tying the rope on my dressing gown.

I don't know why Monroe is so excited about the Quarter Quell, it's still the same game where teenagers kill each other to survive. In fact, it's worse than that. There's always some extra twist to the Quells and I'm just glad that I could never be reaped for one.

"Sit down, Zinnia. It's just starting" Monroe orders me, all hyped up like a little child. I never thought he would be _this_ excited about a Quell. All the same, he does look hilarious and childlike...

"Calm down, you're gonna start squealing in a minute" I add sarcastically, taking a seat in front of the TV.

"Aren't you excited though?" He asks me, "It's your first Quarter Quell"

"Not really, no. It's still sick" I reply, bitterness in my tone.

Monroe doesn't say anything back, he just ignores my last comment and focuses on the screen. The anthem starts to play and the cameras zoom into President Snow, standing on a large stage, assisted by a young boy in a white suit. In his hands, the boy is holding a small wooden box, containing several yellow envelopes that hold the truths of the Quells.

Whoever designed the Games must have planned ahead for centuries! There are enough envelopes to last hundreds of years of Hunger Games. And each twist was decided all those years ago, to be announced every twenty-five years. Including today.

Snow begins his famous speech about the Dark Days and the reasoning behind the Games. I'm not paying much attention, but Monroe is practically glued to the screen. Snow then goes on to talk about the previous two Quarter Quells. In the first Quell, the tributes were voted and chosen to be entered by their districts. I can't begin to imagine how horrible it would feel if you were chosen. Betrayed by your own family and neighbours. The thought of no one caring whether you lived or died. No one bothered by the fact that you were being sent to your death. If I was alive then, I probably would have been chosen. In twelve, I never had any real friends; just friendly acquaintances that were probably only nice to me because they felt they had to. Thinking about it now, I bet they were always talking about me, gossiping about how I looked different to everyone else. I guess they were right in saying that; I am different. I wasn't from there, I was from the Capitol. The stupid Capitol.

The second Quarter Quell was the year when Haymitch won. There were twice the amount of tributes that year, making a huge forty-seven other competitors for Haymitch. I still don't know how he won, but maybe one day I'll find out. Maybe.

At last, the speeches come to an end and the moment the whole of Panem has been waiting for, has arrived. The revealing of the next Quarter Quell. Snow dips into the box and produces the enveloped marked _'75'. _Without hesitation, he opens it and reads from the card.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors" He announces, clear and simple.

And it is clear and simple. Only previous victors will be reaped this year. A sick feeling rises up in my stomach. District 12 only has three living victors; Haymitch, Katniss and Peeta. As she's the only girl, Katniss will have no option, but to go back into the arena. And I know that Peeta will go in with her. Even if he isn't reaped, he will volunteer. This time, I'm a hundred percent sure he will.

* * *

><p>"I have to get back to Peeta. I <em>have<em> to" I declare, marching up and down my room.

I'm still shaken from the announcement and as soon as he heard the news, Ethan came round. He knew I'd be freaking out and guess what? he's right.

My first reaction was a stunned silence, while I processed the information. After sitting without saying a word, it hit me hard. I had then moved on to the complete opposite; I had a small tantrum. I say small... I'd screamed a lot and ended up almost smashing my bedroom to pieces, raging with the president. How dare he do such a thing. After everything I sacrificed to save Peeta's life, and he gets him thrown back into the arena. Once again, my efforts count as none. There's no getting him out of this one.

"Zinny? Can I come in?" Ethan asks again, tapping on the door.

"If you want" I say back, my fists still clenched until my knuckles turn blue.

His head peeps from behind the wood, followed by the rest of his body as he enters the room. When he sees the state of the room, he sighs and walks up to me. His hands firmly grip my arms and he holds me still, attempting to calm myself down.

"It's ok, Zinny. Just breathe and stay calm" He speaks to me softly.

I nod and take my breaths in deeply, slowly.

"That's my girl" He says. "Now, just let things out slowly. Tell me what you're thinking"

I try to speak, but my lip quivers and I find myself unable to produce words. I try again, but my throat is too dry and tears start to swell in my eyes. I swallow and try again, but I can't do it. I can't talk to him. I can't talk to anyone. My rage has subsided and now, all that's left for me to do is cry.

So I cry. I let the tears flood down my face and drip off my chin. I let my body collapse in Ethan's arms and weep into his shoulder. He pats my hair and whispers words of comfort as I snuffle into his t-shirt, soaking the material with my tears.

When my tears stop pouring out and just the dampness is left, I lift my head from his shoulder. I wipe my face with the back of my hand and sniff, looking at him. I'm expecting him to wipe away any more tears, or hold me again, but he doesn't. Instead, he takes my hands and looks me in the eye.

"Run away with me" He says.

"What?" I ask, surprised with his offer.

"Lets go, just the two of us. We can leave this place behind and live a better life. Somewhere where we can be ourselves and where no one will know us. Lets run away together"

"Where would we go?"

"Where my old friends went. District thirteen"

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Yeah, the beginning was fairly slow, but now the story is gonna get back to what you know from Catching Fire. **

**So if you like it and wish to leave me a comment PLEASE REVIEW. Chapter 5 will be up very soon, so keep reading!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	5. The Train

**A/N- As promised, I wrote chapter 5 and now have it posted up here within a couple of days after chapter 4 :D**

**I just noticed that this chapter is quite short compared with previous ones... but oh well, there's only a certain amount that I can write for this part of the story... Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I am not... you know who**

* * *

><p>One hour. That's all I've got left to be here. Just one hour of being imprisoned in this concrete jungle; being told what to do and how to dress. Being told how to fit in and abandoning all my past memories. Abandoning myself.<p>

I thought this was going to be my life. I thought I would be forced to be like everyone else here and one day get married to some rich pretty boy, raise five kids and swim in jewels for the rest of my life. At least then I wouldn't have to worry about anything and would never go without. I wouldn't be happy, but I'd deal with it. Because I made my sacrifice.

But, little did I know; I would one day escape this life before it properly began. That one day, I would be smuggled on to a train and go back to where I belong. In District 12.

* * *

><p>My backpack is half empty. There's nothing I need. Not really. All I need is my reaping dress, which I have, neatly folded in the bottom of the bag. Oh, and a few containers of food that we'll need for the journey. Apart from that, I only have one possession with me.<p>

I straighten the duvet and plump the pillows before I leave, wanting to leave everything the way it was before I came. Everything untouched, clean and tidy. Clothes in the wardrobe and perfumes on the dressing table. Closed curtains and a locked door. As if I were never here.

I pull out the small, silver key and turn it in the lock. It clicks quietly and I tiptoe down the corridor, cautious as I pass Monroe's bedroom. The last thing I need now, is for him to wake up and stop me before I even leave. I wish I could just leave without a trace, but Ethan persuaded me to write Monroe a letter, explaining myself. Well, it hardly explains anything. I didn't mention where I was going, why I was going or how I was going. All I wrote was that I was thankful for the roof over my head and that me and Ethan were going on an 'expedition' and not to expect us back for a few weeks. _Pfft, like he'll believe that._

Even so, I signed the bottom and added something else that Ethan doesn't know about. I wrote, clear and simple: _'You're not my father and you never will be.' _Well, I want him to know that nothing has changed over these months and that I still hate him. He's still the same bitter and twisted man he was before I met him. He needs to know that I haven't forgiven him. And that my parents are still the ones that raised me in District 12.

I slip the key out of my pocket, place it on top of the letter and leave the apartment, closing the door behind me and smiling. I will never have to see this place again. And it feels good to know that.

* * *

><p>The station is practically empty, with only a few men loading carts with supplies. It's also quite cold, for a summer's morning, so I pull my jacket up to my chin. I'm un-noticed as I sneak past the trains and stand in an alcove, waiting for Ethan.<p>

He arrives moments later, carrying a large rucksack on his back.

"You sure don't pack light" I whisper, looking at the bulging bag on his shoulders.

"Unlike you, I actually own things" He says back, his white teeth shining in the darkness.

"I do own things" I remark.

"Sorry... I forgot about all that air you're carrying inside your bag" He says sarcastically.

"Shut up" I say, nudging his arm hard.

He laughs, his breath visible in little puffs of white clouds in the crisp air. He checks his watch and nods to himself.

"Right. The train's leaving in about five minutes" He tells me. "So, they'll be done loading up the carts. This means that the coast is clear and we can sneak on the back"

I nod to him and he holds out his hand to me. I take it and we run across the road, towards the end of the train. When we reach it, Ethan swiftly picks the lock and holds the door ajar, leaving enough space for me to crawl through. I pass him my bag and climb onto the train, squeezing through the gap. Our two bags come shortly after, pushed through by Ethan. I grab them and put them to one side, then take hold of the door to let Ethan follow through.

Once he's in safely, we close the door and push a box in front of it. I sit back, leaning against some other wooden boxes and sigh. We sit in darkness and silence for a while, until the floor beneath us vibrates and the train begins to move.

When we're sure that the train has made it out of the station, Ethan unzips his bag and retrieves a large torch. He switches it on and the whole cart lights up. Now I can see everything in here and breathe a sigh of relief that Ethan got us on the right train. The boxes in this cart are clearly labelled with a sticker, marking '12'. They must be filled with goods from the Capitol for the peacekeepers or the victors of twelve. Apart from the boxes, it's just us in here.

"Well, at least you got us on the right train" I say.

"Yup, I have done it before, you know" Ethan points out, fiddling with the contents of his bag.

"What time is it?" I ask, unable to see through the windows to see for myself.

"Half six -ish" He replies, then throws me an apple. "You might be hungry by now"

"Thanks" I mumble, already biting into the piece of fruit. The skin rips and my teeth sink into the moist body of the apple, releasing small pockets of juice. "Tastes good"

"You bet they do" He says, tossing one into the air and catching it in one hand. "Came from the finest apple tree around"

"Ooh, really?" I tease.

"Uh huh. The finest fruit for the finest girl" He winks at me and starts to juggle with the remaining apples. The first few rounds are successful, each time he catches them with ease. But after a few more circuits, he loses his ability and the apples clatter to the ground.

I laugh at him and he scowls back, but I know he's just joking. He throws the apples to me and I start to pass them back and forth between my hands and the air, juggling perfectly. Ethan's face appears shocked as I continue to juggle them without a fault.

"Surprised?" I ask, still juggling while grinning at him.

"Yeah...Where did you learn to juggle?" He says, still mesmerised by the juggled apples.

"At home, I guess" I sigh. "Me and Peeta used to juggle all the time when we were working in the bakery. Once, when I was about nine and he was seven, we turned the kitchen into a mini circus. We were doing all sorts of tricks with spoons, eggs, loaves; pretty much everything in there!"

"Sounds fun" Ethan says.

"It was... well, until mother found out" I laugh. "She went ballistic at us and made us clean it all; not letting us leave until every last bit of flour was cleaned up... It was worth it though"

We both collapse into silence for the next fifteen minutes. Ethan sorts through his supplies, while I keep juggling. After a while, I start to feel bored from watching apples whiz around in circles in front of me, and I crawl over to sit next to Ethan.

He looks up and smiles at me, stuffing the packets back into his bag and zipping it back closed.

"So... how long 'til we're there, do you think?" I query, looking up to the windows that are way to high to see through.

"Hmmm, not sure. Maybe an hour or two now" He shrugs.

I look back down to the floor and then back to Ethan. "Is it really still there?"

"What?" He questions, seeming unsure about what _'it' _is.

"District 13. Is it really still alive?" I reply.

"Oh right" He says, then adds. "Yup, never died"

"But, it was destroyed seventy five years ago... I've seen the remains on TV"

"It wasn't completely destroyed"

"How so?"

"District 13 isn't like any other district. It's underground"

I gasp.

"Underground? How?"

"They live in a huge complex underground, with all the best technology ever created. They've been building it up for years and years. It's like a different universe"

"So, that's why your friends went. To escape the outside world?"

He sighs, but nods all the same. "Yeah, I suppose they did. And now I'm going to do the same. Hopefully, with you, too"

"Ethan... you know I would love to, but I've got to stay in twelve, you know that"

"I know, for Peeta's sake. I get it"

"He's about to go into the arena again, so he _needs_ me now. I can't leave him again"

"And I'm not expecting you to leave him. But, what happens after the Quell?"

"You mean when he's... _dead_?"

There's a brief pause between us, both of us shocked with what I just said.

"No, Zinny, I never said that..." Ethan trails off.

"It's ok, you don't need to apologize. I know that he probably won't survive this; not with the other tributes being victors" I say, my teeth gritted to hold back the tears.

"Zinny, I..." He begins.

"No, Ethan. No more sympathy acts. When he's gone, then I'll go with you to thirteen. And we'll live happily together, maybe get married, have kids and live in safety from the Capitol"

"Wow... there's no need to plan so far ahead"

"I'm not planning, I'm just saying what's what"

"What if you meet some Mr Perfect in thirteen? Will you have _his_ kids and forget about me?"

"No way! I won't meet _'Mr Perfect' _there; he doesn't exist" I pause. "Besides... I've already found someone"

Ethan looks at me and I swear he blushes slightly. He then takes my hand in his and runs his fingers through my hair.

"And I've found someone too"

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Okaiiiiii, so now is the start of the next chunk in our tale... going back to District 12 and stuff. **

**Well, now is the time for you to click on the review button and leave me REVIEWW!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	6. I'll Try

**A/N- Gah, I've been soooo busy lately! Being off school, I thought I would have plenty of time to write, but I've been occupied with bridesmaid shopping etc... **

**So, once all that was sorted, I sat down and wrote this chapter for you guys, so I hope you like it!**

**And no, I am not the owner of The Hunger Games x**

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><p>"Psst, Zinny!" A sharp whisper wakes me, followed by a nudge in my left arm. "Wake up!"<p>

I stifle a yawn and rub my weary eyes, sitting up against a box. I look to see Ethan, sitting half a metre away from me, zipping up his rucksack.

"What time is it?" I ask, stretching my arms out to shake off the tiredness in them.

"Time to get off this train" Ethan replies, standing up and brushing himself down.

He offers his hand to me and I take it, being lifted up from the ground in one swift pull. I also brush myself down and grab my bag, which balances on the edge of a crate.

"Right... so how exactly are we planning on getting off this train?" I ask. "They'll see us as soon as we climb off at the station"

Ethan grins at me, then says "We're not getting off at the station"

"Then where are we-" I begin, then trail off, just realising what Ethan meant.

_We're jumping off._

"Yup" Ethan says, following my gaze to the window. "We'll have to climb on that box to reach it, though. Ah well, it won't be hard"

"We can't just jump out of a window and expect to live!" I exclaim.

"Sure we'll live! I've planned for us to land on some bushes and stuff; there's plenty by the track right now" He replies, guiding me over to the box that sits under the large window.

He holds his hands out to give me a leg-up and I reluctantly take it, rising straight to the top of the box. I bend my knees and haul myself on top, grabbing another box for balance. I then look out the window.

Trees and bushes are all I can see beyond the train track, stretching out long and far. I'm not too bothered about the landing now; I can see what Ethan means about the soft ground. It's just the speed at which the train is moving that worries me. If we jump out separately, we'll end up landing miles away from each other! The quicker we jump, the closer we'll be together. But even if we jump within a second after the other, we'll still be a fair distance away.

I turn back and look down at Ethan, "Ethan, there is no way we can do this. We'll land too far away from each other and we'll get lost"

"Nah, if you just stay where you land, then I'll follow the track backwards and find you, easy peasy" He says, taking hold of a box and starts to climb up to meet me.

I take his hand and drag him up, both of us now sitting on the box in front of the window. Ethan reaches out and opens the window, letting the air from outside flood inside. A gust of sharp air hits me in the face and I almost topple off the box. A whole lot of nerves hit me. I was scared to fall off the box, so what will it be like to fall off a moving train? _Painful, I bet._

"No, no, no. There is _no way _I'm gonna jump" I tell him. "It's too dangerous"

"Oh stop being such a fuss-pot and just jump already" Ethan moans. "We don't have much time"

"But I'll break my legs! Or my neck, or spine or..." I protest.

"Not if you land on a bush. Now jump Zinny!" He insists, prodding me closer to the open window.

The cold air hits my face again, blowing my hair wildly around my head. I can barely see through the masses of red hair that wave in front of my eyes. What I can see through the gaps, is all a blur. Just one big, massive blur. And I'm expected to jump into that.

"Ethan... I can't, I can't do this" I say, my lip quivering.

"Yes you can Zinny. You _can_ do this" He replies, his hand resting on my shoulder as some sort of comfort.

"No, I don't think I can..." I whimper, tears welling up in my eyes.

"But you can, Zinny. And I'll be right behind you" He whispers in my ear, pushing me further towards the outside. "Do it for Peeta"

Those last words give me strength to hold back my fear. He's right. I've got to do this for Peeta, because if I don't jump now, I won't get to him. I won't be free to run to him and speak to him before he goes. It's that thought which gives me the strength I need.

"Do it for Peeta" I repeat, taking hold of the window frame and swallowing hard.

I take one last look at what lies before me and begin to feel anxious once more. I keep telling myself that I need to do this. Peeta needs me to do this. So I close my eyes. Taking one deep, shaky breath, I brace myself and hurl my body out into the open space.

* * *

><p>The air hits me like a thousand knives, piercing my skin and chilling my veins. The force is much more painful against my face than the rest of my body, as it's first to hit the cold outdoors. My eyes stay firmly shut, not only for protection against the wind, but also to block out any terrifying sight I may see. For example, if I were to see what I was about to land on, I would most probably freak out... So I keep them shut. Tightly shut.<p>

My heart is racing as I fall through the air, adrenalin bursting within my body. At one moment I'm absolutely petrified about dying: but at the next, I'm utterly loving the feeling of freedom. The lightweight sense of just being in the open space is enough to keep me calm as my flying lesson ends and the descent begins.

The feeling of gravity pulling you down is a strange feeling. It's as if you're dreaming and it's not really you who's falling, but your mind instead. Like my body is numb, but my mind is feeling every shiver of fear.

I feel my eyelids flutter open slightly, revealing a thin slit of blurred image. I can't make out what exactly I'm about to land on, but from my best guess, I'd say it was a plant of some sort; the blurred image is mainly made of a fuzzed green. I can say that I would prefer to land on something like a patch of moss, but a plant will do.

The ground draws nearer and I hold my breath. I don't have any time to manoeuvre myself to land in a more comfortable position, so I end up landing my whole body on top of my right arm. The pain is extreme, but at least I'm not dead. I think.

Just to check I'm still alive, I pinch my skin. Fortunately, I feel the sharp squeeze and I sigh in relief. Next, I check my eyesight. Struggling with only one arm, I manage to roll over and look up to the cloudless blue sky. I can see, so I sigh in relief. After that, I test my hearing by rustling some leaves to see whether or not I can hear quiet sounds. Luckily, the soft rustling sound fills my ears and I sigh in relief. And finally, I examine my legs. Carefully, in case I've broken anything, I kick my legs up and down and they seem perfectly normal. No damage done there, so again, I sigh in relief.

Right, so I'm alive, not blind, not deaf and my legs aren't broken. Hmm, I've done pretty well for a girl who has just flung herself out of a moving train. The only question now is; where the heck is Ethan?

I contemplate getting up to search for him, but suddenly remember that he told me to stay put and wait for him. That way, we won't miss each other and get lost. Sounds easy enough, but when it comes to doing it, I'm not so good at it. I've realised that I'm not the most patient person in the world...

A while passes; what seems to be a lifetime, and I'm sitting on the floor. I'm surprised that I've lasted this long... even if I've managed to shred every leaf in a two metre radius of my current position... Oh well, they'll grow back.

Once every leaf I'm able to reach has been torn to tiny pieces, I tilt my head back and groan loudly. All this waiting around is so dull and boring and now I've run out of leaves to rip I'm really starting to feel impatient. How long does it take to stand up, brush yourself down and follow a train track for a few metres? Not long... unless you're injured.

"Shit" I murmur and sit bolt upright, listening out for any distant movement or rustle of leaves.

When I don't hear anything at all, I start to panic. Ethan would be here by now; it wouldn't take that long to find me. All he has to do is follow the train track until he reaches me and if he jumped out soon after me, then he wouldn't be _that_ far away. Would he?

No, he wouldn't. This can only mean two things... either he's injured or dead. And I know which one I'd prefer him to be.

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><p>I keep within a few feet away from the track, yelling out every few seconds and then pausing to listen out for a response. So far, I've heard nothing.<p>

"Ethan!" I yell out again, praying that he'll answer me. "Ethan can you hear me?"

Still with no response, I continue, running through small shrubs and leaping over logs. I occasionally trip over tree roots, crashing to the muddy ground, but I don't let anything stop me. I've got to find him and he's got to be alive.

"Ethan!" I call out again, feeling the desperation in my voice. "Please answer me!"

Once more, I hear nothing in return, just the same repeating sound of my panting breaths.

"Ethan!" I try one last time, before collapsing with exhaustion. But as I land on the soft ground, my foot knocks against something.

I move on to my knees and crawl over to the bush, reaching my arm into it to grab what's underneath. A part of me expects it to be Ethan, hiding amongst the leaves, waiting to leap out and frighten me. But he doesn't. Instead, I pull out a large rucksack and shriek. It's Ethan's rucksack.

A spark of hope lights within me and I scramble through the bush, dragging the rucksack along with me. I haven't got the strength to walk, so I stay on my hands and knees, crawling across the earth. Various plants scratch against my knees, drawing blood that prints onto nearby leaves that I crawl over. Mud coats the palms of my hands as I make my way along the ground.

"Ethan?" I croak, my throat dry from dehydration. "Ethan, are you here?"

As usual, I'm expecting the familiar sound of silence, but it don't hear it. This time, I hear something valuable. It may be faint, but it's definitely a response. And at hearing it, I stumble to my feet and head in the direction of the noise.

I don't have to walk far, as I come across the source of the noise. It's still quite faint, but a lot louder than before. From here I can match the noise to a brief murmur. A murmur of my name.

"Zinny..." The quiet groan comes again, seemingly from behind a rock, just a few metres away.

"Ethan?" I ask, cautiously walking round the side of the rock. "Is that you?"

A small gasp escapes my mouth as Ethan comes into view. He's lying on the ground; half his face covered with blood; his breathing, heavy and interrupted; and his hand clutches at his collar, his knuckles white. He looks broken.

I instantly drop to my knees beside him and tap his good shoulder lightly, "Ethan?"

His head stirs a little and his eyes flicker open to meet mine.

"Zinny, you came for me"

"Of course I came for you, silly. You had me worried sick; I thought you were dead!" I tell him, stroking his head to keep him as calm and relaxed as possible.

"Sorry" He mumbles to me, his eyes filled with worry.

"Don't be. I've found you now and everything is going to be fine" I reassure him. "Now, where are you hurt?"

"I think I was knocked unconscious at first, cuz when I woke up, my head was bleeding real bad and I felt woozy" He replies, his eyebrows knitted in a frown. "Oh, and I think I've broken my collarbone too"

"Let me assess the damage" I say.

Leaning over him slightly, I have a better view of his injuries. And, sure enough, his head is badly wounded, releasing flows of deep scarlet blood and his collar bone looks a little out of position. _Ouch._

"How bad exactly is it?" Ethan asks anxiously.

"Umm... well... you've definitely damaged your head; there's a lot of blood... and I'm no expert on broken bones, but I'd say it's probably broken" I report back.

His face drops at the news, but he was probably expecting it. He should be fairly pleased; at least he's still breathing!

"It's not too bad, but we need to get you to a hospital or something" I tell him. "Think you can stand up?"

"Guess I'll have to" He replies.

I rise from the floor and hold out my left hand to him. My other arm is still sore from the fall, but that's the least of my worries now. I didn't quite tell Ethan the full truth about his injuries; I didn't want him to panic or anything. He'd surely raise his blood pressure which wouldn't be good, seeing his condition right now. So I decide to keep shut and not tell him that he's bleeding too heavily and that he might lose too much blood before we get any help...

He takes my offering hand and slowly, he gets to his feet. Every few seconds, he winces from the pain in his collar, but he keeps determined to stand on his own two feet. When he's standing, he's not very stable. He can walk a few steps, although fairly clumsily, but every couple of metres, he has a dizzy spell. Probably an after effect from passing out earlier.

After going for about ten minutes, he comes to a complete stop and leans his weight on a tree trunk.

"You lied to me, didn't you?" Ethan says, looking me directly in the eyes.

"What do you mean?" I ask him.

"When you said it wasn't bad; you were lying, weren't you?" He replies.

"I wasn't lying to you..." I say in denial.

"Maybe not lying, but you weren't telling the full truth. I'm bleeding too heavily, aren't I?" He persists.

"It's not as bad as you think..." I try.

"No Zinny, it is" He states. "We won't get to a hospital in time. I'll have lost too much blood by then"

"If we keep moving, we'll get there in time" I attempt to convince him, but he refuses to listen.

"Stop trying to make me feel better! Just accept the truth!" He exclaims.

"No. You're not going to die, Ethan. I won't let you"

"It's out of your control. There's nothing you can do to stop it"

"Maybe so, but I can help by slowing down the blood and helping you walk"

"We'll still be too late"

"We'll try"

And try I will. I can't lose him. Not now.

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><p><strong>AN- Okily dokily, that was chapter 6! I didn't think I could write so much about jumping out of a train... but I'm not complaining, as I get an extra chapter than I planned to have. Good thing, right?**

**Well if it is a good thing and you like what you've read so far... please let me know cuz I need the support people!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	7. Slipping In and Out

**A/N- Okay, so yup, I wrote chapter 7... (well, no shit sherlock)**

**And I would quickly like to take this oppertunity to thank everyone who's been reading (cuz I know mannnyy of you have, thanks to the traffic stats) and an extra special thanks to annabeth sapphirekatnissgalerue (there's no space, but it wouldn't let me keep her full name...) for promoting me in one of her fics! So I am returning the favour by syaing to the world: READ HER FICS TOO AS THEY ARE REALLY GOOD! Yay.**

**So yup, here is chapter 7...**

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><p>The sun has started to set by the time I spot the familiar gates of District 12. The tall, wired gate that runs around the outline of the town still stands, seeming exactly the same as it always has been. And the town seems it's dull self, grey and dusty from the mines. It doesn't look like much from here, but it's still home. My home.<p>

"Hey, we're almost there" I whisper in Ethan's ear. "I can see the gates just ahead of us"

"Great" He murmurs back, his voice full of pain.

It's about time too. We've been walking at snail's pace for hours, having to stop every few minutes for Ethan. Most of the time, he's been leaning on me just to keep his balance. His head injury keeps catching up with him and sending dizzy spells to his head. He's virtually passed out a few times, most probably from blood loss. I had wrapped my overshirt around his head to try to stop the flow, it worked well for a short while, but now there's not much space left in the material to absorb any more of the crimson liquid. And if that's not bad enough, he's still in tremendous pain from his collar bone.

If his life didn't depend on me right now, I would cry so hard. Seeing him like this is just devastating and I feel useless to stop the pain. The only thing I can do, is get him to twelve as quickly as possible. And I almost have got him there, maybe not as fast as I hoped, but he's still breathing and that's the most important thing.

After telling him that District 12 is in eye view, our speed seems to have increased quite a bit. He seems even more determined to reach our goal than before, when he was almost weak enough to give up. But now, knowing that we've almost made it, he's plucked up his strength and courage, and is really making a difference.

"That's it" I say to him, smiling. "Keep at this speed and we'll be there in minutes"

He doesn't reply, but gives a brief nod. I turn my head to stare ahead and smile. We're going to make it.

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><p>The hole in the fence is still there. Plenty big enough for a person to fit through and it's our only way in without attracting any unwanted attention from Peacekeepers.<p>

"Right, so this is our only way in" I tell Ethan. "Think you can make it through alright?"

He takes a wobbly step towards the gate. "Of course. I'm a ninja"

I give a soft laugh, "Yup, a ninja with a broken collar bone and a bleeding head. Perfect"

I gesture for Ethan to duck under first, pulling the wire a little further out to extend the hole for extra room. The signs indicate that the fence is electric, but it's never on though and still isn't today. There's no sound of low buzzing, so we're safe.

Ethan slowly bends his body, wincing from the pain in his collar and just manages to get through the gate. His current condition isn't the easiest to move around with, but I'm just glad that we got here in the first place. It's given me a lot of hope for a full recovery and now we've arrived, he'll be treated within minutes.

It's my turn next. So, I bend a lot lower than Ethan did and easily slip under the fence, adjusting the gap to how it was before, so no-one will notice any difference. As I'm fixing the wired material, I call over to Ethan.

"This gap's been here for years, you know. Gale showed it to me when we used to hang out" I say cheerfully. "The Peacekeepers haven't even noticed, well mind you, they don't even have the gate turned on. Talk about lazy security, right?"

But there's no response. Confused, I turn my head around to Ethan. He's still on the grass where he was before I ducked under the fence, except he's not sitting. He's lying on his back, not moving.

"Ethan?" I call to him, a hint of panic in my tone.

When he doesn't respond, I fall to my knees by his side. Looking at his face, his eyes are closed softly and there's no sound of his breaths. No sound of the air moving in and coming back out. I push his fringe from his face and place the back of my palm on his forehead. His cold, still forehead.

"Ethan, talk to me" I say to him, tapping his cheek gently. "It's just me, Zinny"

Alas, his lips don't move and the panic starts to rise within me. I check the shirt wrapped around his head wound. It's drowned in a rich, dark blood. Lifting it up slightly, I peer at the wound and small trickles of blood still sprouts from the gash. A cold chill rushes through my blood, I'm too late.

"No, it's not too late. It's not too late, he's fine" I tell myself firmly. "He's just pretending. It's all just a practical joke"

But I don't even believe myself. I know he's not pretending. This isn't a practical joke. It's reality and I just don't want to admit it.

"Come on Ethan, wake up" I plead to his still body. "Please, please, please"

Tears start to form in my eyes, welling up fast and breaking down my face. A few tears fall from my chin and drip onto his face, forming ant size puddles on his cheeks.

"Ethan please, I'm begging you. Come back to me" I say through my sobs. "I need you, so, so much"

I grab his hand and lock my fingers in his and press it to my lips. His hand doesn't feel like it belongs to the same person. Not the person who used to wind me up constantly, with is cheeky jokes and sarcastic comments. Not the person who always had a mischievous look in his eyes and who was often getting himself into trouble. Not the person who has done so much for me these past few months. This hand doesn't belong to the Ethan I know.

I close my eyes tightly and rest my head on his shoulder, just like I did on that sunny afternoon only about a week ago. But now, there's no sun in the sky and Ethan isn't laughing with me. I keep my eyes firmly shut and try to imagine myself back to that afternoon, when everything was different and everything was perfect...

A small cough stirs me from my thoughts.

"Ethan?" I whisper automatically. "Ethan, can you hear me"

He coughs again and a small grin forms on his lips. "Yup, just about"

"Oh my god, Ethan! I thought you were dead... again" I cry out.

"Well, you haven't got rid of me quite yet, I'm sorry" He jokes.

Tears start to stream down my face again and I can't make them stop. They just keep coming, one after another, after another, after another.

"What are you crying about now?" Ethan asks.

"It doesn't matter right now" I reply. "But what _does_ matter, is getting you some medical attention"

"I think I agree with you there"

I quickly jump to my feet and help Ethan up, holding most of his weight as he struggles to his feet. He's a lot worse than before; he can't take a step on his own, so I support pretty much his whole body and walk him into the main town.

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><p>People stare at us as we stumble through the district. Unfortunately, I recognise almost every single one of the faces that watch us. I can see they're all whispering to each other, pointing at me and then looking at Ethan. Personally, I don't care. They can say all they want about me, but what really surprises me is the ignorance they have towards Ethan. They can see that he's injured badly, but only one person comes over.<p>

Gale.

As soon as he approaches us, I can see that he's shocked to see me. Especially with Ethan.

"Zinny? Where exactly have you been for the past, well almost, year?" He demands. "And who's this with you?"

"That's irrelevant right now, Gale. What matters is that we get Ethan to Mrs Everdeen - _now_" I reply.

"Yup, I think you're right" He says, taking support of Ethan's other side.

"Careful of his collar bone" I point out quickly.

"Kay. So... what happened to him?" He asks, as we walk towards the Victor's Village.

"He gashed his head on a rock and damaged his collar bone" I tell him.

"How...?"

"When we jumped out of the train"

"You did _what?_"

"Irrelevant right now"

"Right... of course. Well, we're almost there anyway"

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><p>As we enter the Victors' Village, I'm shocked. I've never seen this part of the district, with there only being one Victor living here currently, and it's completely different to the rest of the dusty atmosphere. The air seems cleaner and the ground feels softer to walk on. There's not much of the constant smell of burning and coal here either. It's as if we've just walked into a new world or something.<p>

A group of large houses stand, but only three are in use; the others sit and wait for another Victor... not that we get many though.

Gale takes us to one of the houses, pushes open the gate and we walk down the path to the door. It's not the front door, but instead, he shows us to a side door and knocks on the bare wood. The door soon swings open and Prim stands in the doorway, her hair neatly braided in her usual style. She looks much more mature than the last time I saw here, standing taller in her white shirt and knee length skirt. She smiles at Gale, then looks towards Ethan and I.

"Oh my gosh, Zinny?" She questions, seeming shocked with my arrival.

"Yeah, hi Prim. Sorry to sound rude, but is your Mom in?" I glance at Ethan. "My friend here needs medical attention"

"Yes, she is" She replies, ushering us inside. "Just this way"

Gale and I help Ethan down the corridor as we follow Prim. She leads us into another small room, which must be a mini clinic or something. In the centre of the room stands a tall bed, covered in crisp white sheets. Around the sides of the room are various different medicines, tablets and every other medical related object I can think of.

We lift Ethan onto the bed, carefully avoiding causing any more pain. Once he's on, I adjust the cushion under his head to make sure he's as comfortable as possible. Not that he can get very comfortable though.

Mrs Everdeen enters the room and also seems surprised with my return, but doesn't say anything. She automatically walks over to Ethan, quickly examines his condition and turns to me.

"What happened?" She asks me.

"I'm not exactly sure, but he gashed his head on a rock and I think he's broken his collar bone" I explain. "And he keeps passing in and out of consciousness"

"Right, ok then" She says, nodding her head slowly. "If you could just wait in the lounge while I do a full examination..."

"Oh, yeah, sure" I say, hurrying out of the room.

Gale follows me and closes the door behind him.

We both sit down on opposite sofas, neither saying a word for the first few minutes. The silence feels awkward, but Gale soon fills it.

"So... you're into dangerous stunts now?" He asks, frowning.

I shake my head. "God, no. That wasn't really out of choice. It was more like a necessity"

"You call jumping out of a moving train a _necessity_?"

"This one time, yes. It was the only way to get back here, I suppose"

"Why couldn't you just have gotten off at the station, like normal people do?"

"Well... because it wasn't an average train; it was a goods transporter" I explain. "We smuggled ourselves onto it"

"Why?"

"As I said; so we could get here. I needed to see Peeta before the Quell and Ethan knew about the trains, so it seemed the best way out of the Capitol"

"So are you an Ethan... like, together?"

I sigh. "Sort of, yes. We got really close when I was in the Capitol"

"Oh right... well, good for you"

We collapse into another state of silence. I watch the hand of the clock ticking, seeming slower and slower with every second. I can't hear what's going on in the other room, but there's no shrieks of pain, so I guess it must be going well.

"What was it like?" Gale suddenly asks.

"What?"

"The Capitol"

"Oh... um... different I guess" I shrug. "A lot fancier, cleaner and very, very big. Everyone looks as weird as Effie; covered in dramatic make up and wearing every shade of every colour..."

"What about Snow? What was he like?"

"Hmm... very powerful, I've got to admit. But also, very dangerous and sly if you get on the wrong side of him. He could do pretty much anything he wanted to you..."

"Avoxes" Gale mumbles under his breath, but I still hear him.

"Exactly"

"Yeah, but what I don't get is why he didn't make you into an Avox. Isn't that what they do to anyone who gets arrested?"

"Well I'm not just anyone..." I murmur quietly. Unfortunately, Gale hears every word.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Um... well, he found out that I was related to... um..." I gulp. "One of his friends"

Without warning, the door swings open and Prim walks in.

"Who found out you were related to who?" She asks.

"Um, President Snow found out that I was related to Peeta" I say hurriedly. "That's why I'm not an Avox"

Gale looks at me and I shoot him a glare to say, '_don't you dare say anything'_. He seems to get the hint and keeps his mouth shut, much to my relief.

"Oh, well that's good then" Prim says, smiling. "My mother wishes to see you"

"Of course" I reply, following her out of the room and ignoring Gale's looks.

_Let's just hope she has some good news..._

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Okay... I was sooo close to killing off Ethan in this chapter... but I couldn't bring myself to let him go now, I'm just not ready yet :( Also, I have an idea that involves him being alive, so yeah... But! If you love Ethan, I just want to say now, that he still might not be safe and may die some time in the future, but you need to keep reading to find out!**

**Oh, and out of all the many hundreds of you that read this, I would _really _like to know what you think of part 2 so far! Please, it won't take long and it will be really helpful and kind!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	8. Feeling The Wrath

**A/N- Gah, Fanfiction can be annoying sometimes... The little - after A/N is supposed to be a longer line with an arrow... but it never shows...**

**Oh well, not to stress about... There are things to read and more story to be done and here is the next chapter for you people waiting in suspense...**

**For the record, I'm not the owner of The Hunger Games... wow, you didn't know that already?  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Ok, well the good news is that he hasn't lost enough blood to cause permanent damage" Mrs Everdeen tells me, scribbling down something on a notepad. "The bad news is that his collar bone is broken badly and will take some time to heal... It'll probably be a few weeks before he can use his right arm properly"<p>

"Oh, well at least he'll recover" I say, sighing with relief. "He's gonna be fine, right?"

"Of course; as long as he gets plenty of rest and doesn't go jumping out of any more trains" She replies in a more light-hearted tone.

"Thank you so much" I say, smiling gratefully at her.

"You're welcome" She smiles back. "Well, I'll give you two some time alone then"

I nod at her thankfully and she leaves the room, gently closing the door behind her, leaving me alone with a half-asleep Ethan.

I walk over to the bed and immediately plump the pillows under his head, also adjusting the sheets that drape unevenly over the edges of the thin mattress. He groans quietly as I push his fringe from his face.

"Sorry" I whisper quietly, removing my fingers from his forehead.

"No, don't stop. I like it; you have a soft touch" He mumbles to me.

I accept his request and rest my fingers back on his head, pushing aside stray hairs. His skin is at a considerably hot temperature, but smooth all the same. It's relaxing for me, just to stroke across his skin and feel his heated breath on my wrist.

"So, how are you feeling now?" I ask him.

"Tired" He replies with a sigh. "Very, very tired"

"That'll be the painkiller; it's really strong" I tell him, reading the side of the bottle containing his pills. "_Taking these tablets regularly will cause distinct drowsiness within the body..._Hmm, well at least we know you're getting plenty of sleep"

"Yeah, I suppose it's a good thing; I probably wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise"

"Well, as long as you keep well rested, then you'll be better in no time" I say, kissing him softly on the head.

His good arm shuffles under the sheet and his hand draws out from underneath it. He reaches his hand up to my face and rests it lightly on my cheek. I bend my head lower and kiss him gently on the lips. It's only a small kiss, so within a few seconds, I pull back and smile at him. He manages a small smile back, before his eyelids flutter closed and he's drawn back under into a deep sleep.

"Sleep well" I whisper to him, adjusting his bed again. "I'll see you later"

* * *

><p>By late afternoon, I'm also strapped up in bandages. Mrs Everdeen practically forced an examination on me, even throughout my persistence that I was fine, and it turns out that I did do some damage to my right arm. When I'd landed half my body weight on it, after jumping out the train, I'd damaged the bone in the lower part of it, like from my elbow to my wrist. Luckily, it wasn't a break, just a bad sprain. I was shocked with the so little pain I had felt from it, but that was put down to adrenalin and my mind focusing on Ethan. So now I've got a nice little support bandage on my arm.<p>

It's not that bad though; there's not really any pain beside the occasional ache or sharp zinging feeling when I put pressure on it. Thinking about it, I'm surprised that it wasn't broken. After all, I did jump out of a moving train... It was most probably the soft-ish landing that prevented the full brake. So, yup, I've grown a strange fondness for plants now.

In the previous few hours, Ethan has been sleeping, feeling the effects of the painkiller. So, when I wasn't sitting with him, I was wandering around aimlessly through the Victors' Village, just staring at all the empty houses and wondering what it would be like to be one. A Victor, that is, not a house.

I've dropped by Peeta's house a few times, but I couldn't quite bring myself to face him or the family. It's been too long and I'm afraid that they might not want to see me any more. Maybe they've already forgotten me? Maybe they've stopped caring? Either of these are possible, but so are more positive theories that could prove true. Alas, I will only find out one way.

And that is exactly what I'm doing now. Standing outside the front door, my knuckles rapping on the freshly painted wood.

After what seems to be ages, the door clicks and creaks open. It's Flynn who opens the door, half-chewing something in his mouth. As soon as he sees it's me standing on the doorstep, he swallows the item in his mouth and stands, just staring at me in awe.

"Nice to see you too, Flynn" I say sarcastically.

He looks at me as if I've just slapped him across the face.

"Well, hello? Say something" I say, waving my hand in his face.

He blinks a few times, then swallows again.

"Zinny?" He says my name as if it's a question. "What are you doing here?"

"Not quite the welcome I was expecting... but yeah, it's me" I mutter to him.

"Sorry, I'm just... shocked to see you. It's been, like, a year or summit?"

"It's been a while, yes..."

"How did you, I dunno, like, get here?"

"I escaped from the Capitol via train"

"Oh..." The look on his face is turns puzzled as he glances to my bandaged arm. "What the hell happened to your arm? Did they, like, torture you?"

I shake my head. "Nah, I just sprained it when I jumped out the train"

"_You jumped out a train_?"

I make a loud sigh. "Yes, I jumped out a moving train. Stupid, I know, and me and Ethan are feeling the wrath of it all... Ethan especially"

"Ethan?"

"A friend. He also jumped out the train with me and broke his collar bone, but he's been treated by Mrs Everdeen, so he'll be fine"

"Ok, I see"

"Uh huh... So, can I come in then?"

"Oh, yeah, sure" He says, opening the door wider and allowing me in.

I walk through the door and he closes it behind me. I let him lead the way to the lounge, where Mother and Freddie are talking. Mother is sitting on the sofa, sipping at some tea, while Freddie talks in a hushed voice to her. At the sound of Flynn's sharp cough, they both silence and look up. My mother's first reaction to my presence is to drop her tea, creating a nice brown stain on the carpet. She makes some sort of squealing sound and leaps to her feet, running towards me with open arms.

"Zinny my darling!" She cries, wrapping her arms tightly around me, then whispers in my ear. "I _knew_ you'd be back soon"

"Good to be back" I whisper back, detaching myself from her.

"How did you-" She begins to ask.

"I'll tell you all tonight, but first, where's Peeta?" I cut her off.

"Oh, he said he was going for a walk about two hours ago. He should be back in time for tea though" Mother tells me, checking the clock that sits on the fireplace.

"Ok, I'll talk to him later then" I say. "How is he, by the way?"

"There's good days and bad days, I suppose. He spends most of his time painting nowadays" She shrugs, gesturing to some piled canvasses in the corner of the room. "But I'm sure he'll tell you everything; you've always been close"

"Yeah, I'm sure he will" I agree.

* * *

><p>Hours later, we've eaten tea, but Peeta still hasn't returned from his <em>'walk'<em>. That's one heck of a long walk, in my opinion. _Where did he walk; District 1?_

"He'll be back soon" Mother keeps muttering every five minutes.

With every time she says this, we feel less and less hopeful for his return. Mother's even left a plate of casserole wrapped up and sat in the lukewarm oven for him. But, some how, I don't think he'll be back anytime soon. He'll most probably turn up late through the night or something, so there's no point in leaving the food, but she keeps insisting that he'll be back.

He won't.

"This isn't like Peeta" Mother mumbles to us; me in particular. But, I can tell from everyone's faces and the hint of doubt in her voice, that this _is_ like Peeta. Exactly like Peeta. Maybe not the old Peeta, but definitely the new Peeta.

The Games affect everyone. Burying itself into Victors' minds, creating permanent memories. Peeta must feel it too, he must. There's no other explanation for his endless non-appearance; he's trying to escape it all, but everything he sees just reminds him of the arena. Reminds him of the death that loomed over him like a dark cloud, threatening to rain. That's why he likes to disappear; to get away from it all. Well, that's my theory anyway.

Over dinner, I'm roped into telling everyone everything. From my arrest to arriving back here. It takes a while, but I finally get through the whole tale; everyone engrossed with every last detail. I'd forgotten how much happened this past eleven or so months. However, I don't quite mention the whole Monroe-is-my-biological-father-and-he-makes-a-living-by-selling-other-people's-bodies scenario. It's just not the right time.

Fancying a change of scenery, once tea is all cleared away, I walk over to the Everdeen's to visit Ethan. But when I go in, he's asleep. Again. As usual. And I feel caught in the middle, between the false enthusiasm of my parents and the absence of Peeta and Ethan. It's not much of a choice for me, as I go for the silent option. Maybe I just need time to think to myself. Some noticeable aloneness.

I decide to sit on the wall outside our house. Well, my families house, it's not really mine at all.

I sit there in silence, watching the sun set and the tiny flecks of stars appear in the night sky. Letting your thoughts leave your mind and evaporate into the sedated atmosphere. It's really relaxing, sitting here out in the open. Right up until you're interrupted and all that carefree feeling zaps into thin air. Fabulous.

"Hey" Comes a soft voice from behind me.

I recognise it too well and turn my head away. It's Katniss; the last person I want to share a heart-to-heart with.

"Hey" She repeats, sitting down on the wall beside me.

I reply with a grumble and attempt to ignore her, hoping that she'll just leave. But she doesn't take my hint and continues to start an unwanted conversation.

"Look, Zinny, I know I'm not your favourite person in the world" She begins.

"You can say that again" I cut in with a sarcastic side comment.

She sighs. "Ok, fine, you hate me. But what I want to say is that I think we should at least _try_ to put the past behind us... For Peeta's sake"

"Sure... then you can go off and steal Ethan away from me, or something" I snort in response.

"I didn't _'steal'_ Gale from you"

"Really... what would you call it then; borrowing and never giving back?"

"I didn't take him away from you, Zinny. He chose for himself"

"That's the point! You forced him to make a choice he didn't have to make! He could have easily spent with both his girlfriend _and_ best friend. There was no need to cut one of us out"

There was a short silence.

"Fine, admit that I was a little selfish then. But I just felt like he liked you more than me.." Katniss speaks, then adds quietly. "And I thought he would chose you anyway..."

"Except he didn't, Katniss. He didn't. He chose you because he's a loyal friend and that's what good friends do"

She sighs and looks to the ground. "Well... I guess I was jealous then"

"_What? Of me?_"

"I suppose"

"But I was in love with him, not trying to be his best friend. You wanted friendship and I never had that bond with him; he was more interested in what was under my t-shirt than just talking like you two do. So why feel jealous?"

"Because...because, maybe, deep down, I loved him too"

"And do you still love him?"

"I don't know"

"What about Peeta. Do you love _him_?"

She doesn't say anything. Just sits still, unable to process her thoughts.

"I knew you didn't" I say, then slide off the wall and walk into the house.

Katniss follows me into the kitchen.

"What about you, do _you_ love Gale?" She asks.

I shake my head. "No. I used to, but not anymore"

She seems relieved when I tell her, as if a huge weight as been lifted off her shoulders. Of course she'd be like that; she loves Gale. I just know she's in love with him, but just can't admit it, because she's already been tied to Peeta. And I hate her for it.

There's a few moments of silence, the Katniss turns to me.

"Soooo... are you and Ethan..." She asks curiously, glancing over to the door that leads to his temporary room, where he's most probably sleeping.

"Erm, kind of, yes I suppose" I shrug.

But, honestly, I have no idea. I don't know whether I love him as a friend, or more than a friend. He obviously sees me as the second option, but I'm not too sure if I feel the same way. There's still this little niggling at the back of my mind, telling me something else. Except, it's like it's talking a foreign language and I just can't, no matter how hard I try, understand what it's saying.

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><p><strong>AN-Yup, that was that. So, are you wondering what that niggling feeling is? Or do you already think you know? **

**Well, whatever you think so far, please let me know by either a PM or a REVIEW. It won't take you a minute and it will go a long way by making me smileeee! I NEED to know what you are thinking!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	9. You've Changed

**A/N- Ahhh! Sorry for the late update! I've been really busy lately and also suffered from a mild case of Writers' Block... sorry again :(**

**But I've finally finished this chapter and beaten away my block! Hurrah. Well, this chapter is quite dialoguey (if that's even a word), so if you love dialogue, then enjoy this very much! But, if you don't... then sorry, but this needed to be said :D**

**I have not committed fraud, so I'm still not the owner of the Hunger Games x**

* * *

><p>I wake up early the next morning, inadequate slithers of light peeping out from behind the sheeted curtains, pausing awkwardly into my eyes. I blink a few times, wishing the light would shine in another direction rather than in my eyes. But, obviously, the light doesn't respond to my subtle mind nudges. So I just turn my head out the way of the beams, my nose bumping into something firm and white.<p>

My body sits up straight, and for the first time since I woke, I look around at my surroundings. I'm sitting on a large plush chair, drawn next to a bed. Ethan's bed to be exact. I sit up, confused as to how exactly I got here, but doesn't take long for me to jog my memory...

Last night, I'd left the house, sat on a wall, argued with Katniss, turned the argument into a rational conversation and visited Ethan; there, I must have fallen asleep, my head resting on the bed. And that is how I woke up here.

Running my fingers through my tangled hair, I stand up from the chair and rub my eyes. They're damp. My eyes are damp. This can only mean one of two things...

I scuttle over to the chest of drawers, where a small hand mirror sits on top, reflecting the morning's light around the room. I snatch it from the surface and hold it in front of my face.

Sure enough, my eyes are clearly moist... and also, bloodshot. I've undoubtedly been crying; for whatever reason, I'm not sure of yet. Pulling out a tissue from the box beside me, I attempt to dry the dampness on my face and hopefully, cover up the fact that I've been crying. Even through my cautiousness, I seem to rouse Ethan. _Oops._

He stifles a yawn and rubs his eyes, before sitting up and seeing me, scrubbing my face with the GODDAMNED TISSUE THAT REFUSES TO ABSORB THE MOISTURE ON MY FACE.

"Zinny?" He yawns, looking at me in confusion. "What the heck are you doing to your face?"

"Oh, erm... nothing" I reply awkwardly, stuffing the tissue in my pocket. "Just, um, cleansing"

"_Cleansing..._"He repeats, clearly seeing through my excuse.

"Ok, fine, you've caught me out. I forgot to take my makeup off last night" I quickly cover up. "Lazy me"

Ethan looks back at me, his eyebrows slightly raised in disapproval. "You don't wear makeup"

I feel my cheeks turn a pale shade of pink and I avert my eyes.

"What's really wrong, Zinny?" He asks, standing up and walking over to me.

His good arm reaches out and a finger strokes down my cheek. I flinch ever so slightly, but I don't think he notices as he tilts my face towards his.

"Have you been crying?" He questions, peering into my eyes.

I look away from his eyes. "Um, no..."

He doesn't buy it.

"Yes you have. I can see the bloodshot in your eyes - and your eyelids are slightly swollen" He points out. "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know Ethan. I really don't" I answer, pulling back from him.

He appears to take this personally and looks upset.

"Zinny, what's wrong with you? Have I said something; done something?"

"No, it's not you, it's-" I mutter.

"No, not the whole it's-not-you-it's-me routine. Let's not go there" He says, sighing.

"But it's not you..." I begin.

"And it's not you, either" He cuts me off before I can finish. "What's changed between us, Zinny?"

"Nothing..."

"Then why are you acting different?"

"I'm not..."

"Yes you are; you're acting weird around me"

"I must have had a bad night's sleep, that's all"

Ethan steps towards me, hugging me close with one arm.

"Ok, I'm sorry" He whispers to me.

"Me too" I agree.

"I love you; you know that?"

"I do now"

He lets out a small chuckle and releases me.

"And you?"

"I...erm..." I stammer. "Oh my gosh, is that the time already?"

Ethan looks at me, surprised. He must have been expecting me to confess my love for him as well... But how can I when I don't think I do love him? Do I love him? I'm not sure. Now, I have a pretty good idea why I wept last night. I don't think I love him, not like that, but I can't bear to tell him. Instead, I just avoid the situation by hurrying out of the house.

* * *

><p>I run out the house, leaving the door swinging on it's hinges behind me. I don't look back as I open the gate, heading as far away from the house as I can. I can hear Ethan calling my name, but my head is spinning and I ignore it. I block it out as I create more distance between me and the house. Luckily, Ethan doesn't follow me far; he must have realised that the best thing to do is let me be.<p>

I'm not sure where I'm going, nor where I want my destination to be. Anywhere is fine, just not the Victors' Village. I just keep running forward, forward, forward. No looking back, just looking ahead; but even that's hard with the water welling up in my eyes, blurring my vision.

I don't bother to stop and wipe away the tears; I just can't stop my legs from moving beneath me. My body doesn't want to stop going, not until I get away from everyone's watching eyes and predictable minds.

By now, my vision is so blurred, I can't even tell whether I'm heading in a straight direction, never mind see the person I'm about to crash into. It's not until I've ran head first into their arm that I notice them standing before me.

"Woahhh, slow down. You almost knocked me over" The person says, laughing.

"Oh, I'm sorry...I just...um" I stumble over my words, feeling embarrassed.

They turn around to face me, but as soon as his face comes into view, I realise this is no stranger.

It's Peeta.

"Zinny?" Peeta says, staring at me in shock.

"Peeta" I mumble, staring back at him, blinking back the tears.

Peeta steps towards me and takes my arms, hugging my body tightly. I can feel his muscles trembling as he almost crushes me to death. I let out a small cough and his grip instantly loosens.

"Sorry, am I crushing you?" He apologises.

"A little, but I don't really mind. I'm just so happy to see you" I reply, hugging him hard too.

"Me too. I just can't believe you're here" He tells me, tears welling up in his eyes as well.

I pull back from his embrace, catching a tear that falls down his cheek.

"Don't you cry too" I say, my lip quivering. "You'll set me off again"

"I'm not" He sniffs. "It's just so amazing to see you again; I thought you were in the Capitol"

"Well, I _was_ for almost a year, but I escaped and arrived here yesterday. You weren't home though" I explain.

"Oh, I needed some space, that's all" He shrugs. "It can get pretty hectic in my life at the moment, being a new Victor and all that"

I'm not sure what to say next, so I start chewing my lip awkwardly, until Peeta spots my bandaged arm.

"Hey, what happened to your arm?" He asks, gently prodding my arm.

"Um...I kinda sprained it when I jumped out a moving train on the way here" I tell him, frowning at my own stupidity.

"Right... well, I'm not gonna ask why, it could be a long story. I'm sure we'll find plenty of time to talk about it later"

"Later?" I ask. "What are we doing now?"

"I wanna show you something"

And with those words said, he takes my upper arm and walks off, me trailing behind my his grip.

* * *

><p>The room we enter is dark. When I say dark, I mean literally pitch black. Not even one tiny little slither of light I can use to navigate my way safely.<p>

Peeta stands behind me, guiding me by the shoulders. He seems to know his way around this place even without seeing it, so I let him take me further into the blackness. After a few steps, probably about a couple metres into the room, Peeta stops me. He removes his hands from my shoulder and I can no longer sense him near me.

"Peeta? You still here" I whisper anxiously into the darkness.

There's a slight shuffle from somewhere in the room and Peeta replies. "Uh huh, just finding the light switch"

He finds it seconds later and the light bulb flickers on. It blinks a few times, before staying at a dim glow. It's not much light, but it's enough to see perfectly fine.

And what I see is an art gallery.

Masses of paint covered canvasses scatter around the room. Some hang on the wall, some sit on stands, waiting to be completed. There's pots of paint in every shade of every colour and stained brushes lie lifelessly on the floor and tables.

Cautious not to break anything, I walk over to one of the paintings. I look at it in awe, my jaw practically touching the floor. It's amazing. It's looks like a photograph that's been printed on a canvass, it's that life-like. The way the colours are gently blended together is mesmerising and I can barely take my eyes off it. Even through it's beauty, I can see sadness and death in the painting. It's a painting of the sweet twelve year old from last years Games. Rue, I think her name was. In the painting, she's lying (presumably dead), surrounded by delicately painted white flowers. Exactly like she lay when she died.

"Peeta, that's just, amazing" I say, unable to avert my eyes from the painting.

"Thanks" He mumbles, chewing his bottom lip.

I send him a warm smile and look through all the other paintings around the room. Some are more peaceful, like the first one I saw, but others are vivid images of death, death and more death. But they're all so real that it sends shivers down my spine. It's as if I'm in the picture and death is all I see. It doesn't take me long to realise that every picture I see is related to the Games. This must be Peeta's way of dealing with the flashbacks and the nightmares. He must have to paint out his thoughts and memories, in a hope to face his fears.

"Peeta" I say, walking over to him, crouched on the floor with his head in his hands. "Are you alright?"

His head lifts up. "Oh, I'm fine. Just thinking"

I drop to my knees beside him. "About what?"

"Doesn't matter" He murmurs, dismissing his thoughts.

"It's ok, you can tell me. I'm here for you now" I smile at him.

"Thanks" He smiles back.

"No problem, little brother"

I stand up again and hold my hand out to him. His hand grips onto mine and I pull him to his feet. We stand silent for a few minutes, thinking our own thoughts. The room seems full of sadness and depression, so I attempt to lighten the mood with a positive statement.

"It's my birthday tomorrow, you know" I say to Peeta.

"How could I forget?" He answers, but he doesn't seem particularly happy about it.

"Peeta? What is it?" I ask him, sensing that something's not right here.

"It's just, your birthday" He shrugs. "It's always the week before the reaping"

I let out a deep sigh. How could I forget that? My birthday had always been exactly a week before the reaping, so why of all years should I forget now? I can't believe I just said that. I tried to lighten the mood, but I only made it worse. I've just reminded him that this is his last week in District 12, before he's thrust back into that arena again. Only this time, he probably won't come out again.

"Oh, Peeta... I didn't mean to remind you" I begin to apologise.

"Nah, it's fine. I hadn't forgotten that my life will end in a few weeks" He says, glancing to the floor.

"Don't say that"

"But it's true and you know it"

"You've still got a 50-50 chance of not being chosen. Haymitch might be reaped"

"Then I'll volunteer"

"Peeta, you can't..."

"I can and I will"

"It's not fair on Mother and Father. It's not fair on me"

"But it's fair on Katniss"

I don't say anything.

"Zinny, I _need_ to go with her. We need to stay together and prove-" Peeta tries to convince me.

"Prove what exactly?" I demand.

"Oh, just things you wouldn't understand..."

"No, Peeta. I've lived in the Capitol for the _past year_, so I think I of all people would _understand_"

He sighs. "Yeah, but it's more complicated than that..."

"No. The only complicated thing now is you. No-one gets why you want to go back in that arena, especially when you're chances of coming out are even slimmer than last time"

"But, Zinny, I have to!"

"No, Peeta, you don't"

There's a silence.

Peeta doesn't seem like he's going to say anything back, so I turn and walk slowly towards the door. When I reach the door, I pause in the doorway and look back at him.

"You're right. I don't understand"

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Gah, I'm finding it hard to think of what to write in these notes at the moment... other than PLEASE CONTINUE READING AND REVIEWING.**

**Oh, and I love you all :D**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	10. Pancakes and Squirrels

**A/N- Ok, so I'm ill. When I say ill, I don't mean a serious illness, so don't worry, I'm still able to write! Anyways, I had this really painful stomach ache this morning at about 4am...(the joy) and it got worse and blah blah blah, I ended up almost puking three times in school and got sent home (hurrah-ish) Fortunately, I haven't thrown up and am feeling a tad bit better... so, I had some spare time and managed to write chapter 10!**

**Well, enough with my blabbering and here ist chapter 10!  
><strong>

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><p>The next morning I wake to the sound of out-of-tune singing and a lit candle dangerously close to my face. I swear the flame is practically touching my nose, I can feel the heat intensely. When I flick my eyelids open, I'm greeted with enthusiastic smiles and multi-coloured ribbons.<p>

"Happy birthday Zinny!" They all cheer simultaneously as I sit up in bed.

"Thanks..." I mumble back, still half asleep.

I'm not even given a chance to wake up properly, before a plate is thrust into my lap. I look down in surprise to see a stack of pancakes, drowned in sticky syrup and topped with a candle. I let out a little laugh, then blow out the fire.

"A pancake stack as a cake? Inventive..." I say, nodding my head in approval.

"Oh, that's not the cake, it's just breakfast. Peeta's working on the cake down at the bakery at this very moment" Mother tells me, sitting down on the bottom of the bed.

"That's even better then" I smile, my mouth watering slightly at the sight of the pancakes.

"Tuck in then" She says, standing up from the bed and heading towards the door. "We'll be waiting in the lounge with the presents"

I thank her again for the breakfast and watch the rest of the family trail out the room one by one. After the last person has left, I grin and begin ploughing through the pancake stack, syrup sticking to my lips.

Half an hour later, the plate has been licked clean, I'm dressed and on my way downstairs. I notice that the house is strangely quiet all of a sudden as I reach the lounge door. Pausing, holding my breath, I stand just outside the door, listening inside. It's silent for a few seconds, then I start to hear shuffles and murmurs bounce around the room.

"Are you sure you heard her?" A voice whispers sharply, presumably it belongs to Freddie.

"I think so. There were footsteps coming down the stairs" A reply comes back.

There's another short silence, followed by more shuffling and murmurs.

"Ouch" Clearly Ethan's moan comes next. "Mind the sling"

"Oh, sorry man"

I have to bite my lip to keep myself from laughing at their failed attempts of keeping quiet. They are so incredibly bad at it that it's almost embarrassing. Oh well, time to put them out of their misery...

"Hey, I know you're all here" I laugh, entering the lounge.

There's a mix between relieved, annoyed and tired sighs echoing round the room in response to my appearance. Then, one by one, heads pop out from behind sofas, tables and other pieces of furniture.

"See, I _told_ you I heard her" Freddie huffs to Flynn, his arms crossed at his chest. "But no no no, you didn't believe me"

"Sorry. It's not that big a deal really" Flynn replies, his arms held up as if to surrender.

"But we were meant to scare Zinny! She's always the one playing tricks on us and this was supposed to be revenge" Freddie says, exasperated.

At this point, I cut in. "Ha ha... brothers, don't you understand? You'll never catch me out"

I give them a sly grin and walk over to the sofas, where the rest of the family are sitting. Peeta still hasn't made an appearance, but we start anyway.

"He's been working on the cake for hours, so he said to start without him" Mother explains when I ask of Peeta's whereabouts.

"Ok, sure" I smile, taking a seat.

Father comes in seconds later, carrying a large plate and placing on the coffee table. The smell of freshly baked biscuits enters my nostrils and my mouth begins releasing juices.

"Shortbread cookies" He pronounces in a posh voice. "The traditional way to celebrate present giving"

We all thank him and stare longingly at the cookies. I can even see small waves of steam rising from them, they're that fresh. I desperately want to eat one now, but it'll probably burn my mouth. Even so...

"Right, well shall we begin and eat the cookies once they've cooled?" Mother suggests.

"Yeah, ok" I agree.

First of all, Flynn comes forward and hands me a rather messily wrapped box. As I feel the shape in my hand, guessing what it may be, he adds, "It's from Freddie too"

I nod and begin unwrapping the box. My fingers get caught in the tape a few times, but finally I manage to remove the pink paper. Next, I open the box and pull out a slender glass bottle, filled with a clear liquid with a hint of pink.

"Thanks" I smile to my brothers, spraying some of the perfume on my wrist and giving it a sniff. "Mmm, smells lovely and sweet"

I put down the perfume on the table and then I'm passed another gift.

"Who's this one from?" I ask, looking around the room.

No-one replies.

"Um, anyone know who this is from?" I ask again, but again, no-one takes credit.

"Oh, I just found it on the front porch" Mother says. "It doesn't say who it's from..."

"Strange..." I say, holding the small gift in my hand. "Well, let's see what it is then"

The gift is wrapped in a brown paper bag, tied with a piece of frayed string. It seems so weird, how someone has just anonymously left it on my doorstep. It doesn't make sense.

Until I open it.

I almost let out a gasp, but manage to quickly hold it in. I don't want anyone else to know who it's from. Luckily no-one will understand what it means, except me. And I'm glad; I don't want anyone to find out any time soon.

"Ooh, what is it Zinny?" Mother asks, peering at the object.

"It's a piece of carved wood" I announce, holding it out on my palms. It's the perfect size to sit in the centre of my hand and balances easily. It's so amazingly carved as well; you can pick out the features that have been delicately shaped in.

"Is that an animal carving?" Ethan asks from across the table.

I hold it closer to the light. "Yup. It's a squirrel"

"Who would carve you a _squirrel_?"

"I have no idea, Ethan..."

That was a lie. Of course I know who would carve me a squirrel. Gale Hawthorne.

* * *

><p>"My present next" Ethan announces, pulling out a tiny pouch. "Here you go, princess"<p>

"Princess?" I repeat, my eyebrows raised.

"Only the finest" He winks at me.

I shake my head at him, sighing.

The pouch sits lightly in my hand, the material feeling soft against my fingers. I lace my fingertips around the bag, appreciating the velvety fabric. They then move on to the top of the bag, untying the ribbon fastening and sliding out the contents. A dainty silver piece of jewellery lies in my hand. I pick it up and look closely into it, then noticing tiny sparkled detail across the silver that glitters when caught by the light.

"It's an anklet" Ethan explains.

"It's beautiful, Ethan" I smile gratefully to him. "Thank you, I love it"

"Glad to hear it"

Looking down at the anklet, I pull my leg up to my chest. Carefully unfastening the anklet, I retie it around my ankle. It looks exemplary against my skin tone and I cant stop smiling while looking at it.

When I look up, I notice that my parents have left the room. I glance around, confused, but soon they re-enter, carrying a box with them. They place it on my lap and sit down.

"This is from your father and I" Mother tells me.

I look down at the box on my lap, so beautifully wrapped in silver paper, topped with an extravagant bow. Gently, I remove the bow and peel of the wrapping. The paper falls to reveal a box. Not just an average box, but a pristine white box, decorated in silver, gold and black patterns and coated in a dusting of glitter. I lift up the lid and instantly a graceful melody begins to play and inside the box, a tiny girl dressed in an emerald green dress spins around to the music. When I look closer, I can see her auburn flowing hair, sparkling green eyes and the dress... they all seem so familiar to me. I smile. The tiny girl is me and the dress is my reaping dress.

"Mother, Father, this is...it's wonderful" I say, almost speechless. "It's gorgeous"

"You're welcome, sweetie" Father says, beaming with happiness. "We thought you'd like it"

"Like it? I love it!" I exclaim, running over to hug them both. They seem a little startled at first, but that's because I haven't hugged either of them for so long.

After thanking everyone again, I hear the front door swing open. Moments later, Peeta enters the room, pulling along a cart with a covered object sitting on top.

"Happy birthday, sis" He smiles, coming over and hugging me, before returning to the cart.

"What's under the-" I begin.

"Aha, that is your cake ma dear" Peeta says, pulling it in front of me. "Now, would you do the honours...?"

"Of course" I reply, taking the cloth in my hand.

I pull off the cover and squeal in delight. It's amazing!

Three layers of soft sponge, sandwiching succulent berry jam and smothered in perfectly applied cream frosting. Fairly simple, but stunning.

"Wow! This has got to be the best cake I've ever seen, Peeta!" I gasp.

"It was a pleasure making it for you, then" He says, taking a small bow.

He starts to push the cart towards the kitchen, but suddenly stops in his tracks.

"I almost forgot! Zinny, let me show you your present" He says, turning to me.

"You got me a present _as well _as the cake?" I say in disbelief.

"I did indeed. Now, come with me"

* * *

><p>Five minutes later and we're back in his 'hideoutart gallery'. This time there's more light and the place seems a little tidier.

"Why is my present here?" I ask, walking further into the room.

"Wait and see" Peeta tells me, disappearing behind a cabinet.

I hear some muffles and shuffles, then Peeta resurfaces. In his hands, he carries a large canvass. He brings it to me and places it on a painting stand.

"Ok, close your eyes while I position it" He orders me.

I do so and a few moments later, I'm told to open them again.

And standing on the stand is a painting. Only this time, there are no images of death, fear or despair. The only thing I see on the picture is happiness.

The painting is of our tree at the back of the bakery, standing exactly how it always has. Sitting underneath, within the shade of the branches, are two people. Me and Peeta. The sky is pure blue - no clouds - and we're both laughing. I can almost feel the heat from the sun and the cool breeze that rustles the leaves above us. It's just as I remember; when we used to do that in the summer. Just sit in the shade, beneath that tree and laugh. Laugh and laugh and laugh.

This painting isn't just a painting. It's a memory taken outside the mind.

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon, I'm sitting on the wall outside the house. Mother's inside preparing dinner; Peeta helping her. Flynn and Freddie are putting up Peeta's painting somewhere in the house. Father's pottering about somewhere. And Ethan - I don't know where he is.<p>

I pull out the squirrel from my pocket and look at it for the billionth time. I look at it and think. _Why would Gale think of me? Why would he remember? Why would he make this for me? And why now?_

All of these questions, of course, are unanswerable alone. If I really wish to know why, then I'll need to ask. I'll need to ask Gale. I need to ask him.

Jumping down from the wall, I take off. Out of Victors' Village and into the main district. I'm running down streets, behind houses, behind shops. I'm running past people, old neighbours, old friends. Ok, maybe not the friends part, since I've never really had any apart from Peeta (who's my brother, so does that count?), Finnick (who currently hates me and who I'll never see again, so does _that_ count?) and Ethan. Ethan. I don't even want to think about him right now.

I turn down a sort-of street and count the houses I pass. _One, two, three, four, five...six._ I stop in front of house number six. Taking a sharp breath, I walk up the three wooden stairs and knock on the door. I take a step back, nearly falling down the stairs, and wait for a response.

One comes shortly and the door is opened.

"Zinny?"

"Hi Gale"

"Oh, hi..." Gale says, frowning. "Um... why are you here?"

"Hmf. That's a weird way of saying _'happy birthday'_ " I say sarcastically.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Happy birthday"

"Gee, thanks Gale. I can't believe you remembered!"

"Ok, enough with the sarcasm... Why are you here?"

"Well, I could ask _you_ the question: _What are you doing leaving gifts on my doorstep_?"

"I never left you-"

"Yes you did" I state, pulling out the squirrel. "Now, don't even try to deny it, Gale"

He doesn't.

"Ok, fine. I carved you the squirrel and left it on your doorstep" He says, sighing.

"Why?" I ask.

"Cuz it's your birthday"

"But you haven't given me a gift for years! We barely even speak to each other!"

"I know, but... Ah, I dunno. I just wanted to, I guess" He shrugs.

"But why Gale? Why?" I demand. "Why _now_?"

"Like I said, I just wanted to"

"Ohhhh, I get it. So one day you woke up and thought, _'hey, I think I'm gonna carve my ex girlfriend a squirrel and leave it on her doorstep'_?"

"Umm..."

"No? Well you tell me why then"

"Err..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Rightio, so there was chapter 10... What an eventful birthday... sort of. No, not really.**

**Well, you may have some questions floating around your head about Gale and the squirrel... well do you? If you have any commens of thoughts about any of the presents, or even just a nice encouraging review for me, then PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW :D**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	11. Stew and Empty Bowls

**A/N- Another chapter has been written and posted quickly, so yay.**

**I have come to realise that after this, there will only be about 4 chaps left... which is both good and bad, I suppose. What I've planned for part 3 shall be an exciting end to this Mellark story, hehe. And I can't wait to write and post it for you all, so the last few chaps in this part will be posted up quite quickly after another! I'm going to completely dedicate my spare time to writing for the next few days x**

**Oh, and I'm still not the owner of The Hunger Games, I only own Zinny, Ethan and Queenie x  
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><p>The next week passes; nothing much happens. The atmosphere at home got more and more tense each day, people started to talk less, people started to smile less. Even I got caught in the sullen wave of things. Everything and everyone seems so quiet now; the sound of dust moving across the floor could even be heard. It's as if the sky has placed a giant grey cloud over the house, and everyone underneath has been rained on.<p>

Now we're all sat around the dinner table, no-one even trying to make conversation. Just sitting in states of silence, watching the hands on the clock tick by. We're not usually this quiet at meal times, we've at least talked about the weather or how pretty the flower pots are. But tonight, nothing. Zilch. Nada.

"Who's ready for my famous rabbit stew?" Mother asks, attempting to lighten the dull atmosphere.

"I certainly am, Mrs Mellark" Ethan says, rubbing his hands together. "I've heard a lot about this stew"

Mother smiles warmly at him and I feel grateful that he's here. Grateful that he's trying.

The large pot of stew is placed in the middle of the table. The smell of thick, rich gravy like sauce wafts up from the pot. Without further hesitation, I spoon myself a portion of stew and tuck in. The meat practically melts in my mouth and I'm tempted to have seconds. I'd forgotten how great this stew was. No wonder everyone calls it her famous rabbit stew. It's delicious.

Half an hour later, we've all had seconds and are full to the brim of warm stew. We sit, digesting, when Mother taps her knife on the side of her glass.

"I would just like to say a few words, if you don't mind" She says, looking round at everyone.

"No, you go ahead" Father says.

She clears her throat and begins to speak again. "Firstly, I would like to thank everyone for being here tonight. Family is the most important thing in life and I'm so grateful to have you all with me in this hard time. This time a few months ago, I thought that I might not ever see my daughter sitting, eating with me. But she is here and that makes me so, so proud of her"

I blush slightly as everyone turns to look at me.

"To Zinny" Ethan raises his glass.

"To Zinny" Everyone else repeats, lifting their glasses too.

"Thanks" I mumble, feeling awkward.

Mother coughs again and we all turn back to look at her.

"Secondly, I would like to thank my brilliant husband for all the support he's given me this past year. I would never have gotten through it without him"

We all give a small toast to Father and he grins with pleasure. He's not often thanked enough, I think.

"Also, I would like to welcome Ethan to the family with open arms" Mother says, smiling over to Ethan. "I know how much he has helped and looked after Zinny when she wasn't with us, and I know he cares about her so much. I can tell he's a good boy"

"It's a pleasure, Mrs Mellark" Ethan says, taking hold of my hand. "Zinny is a very special girl"

Despite the awkwardness inside, I manage to force out a smile. I just hope it looks real enough...

"I don't want to drag on all night, but I do want to thank my three sons. Flynn and Freddie; I couldn't have wished for better sons that you two. Every time I've needed help, you've both been there and I'm very proud of you too" Mother starts again.

"And last, but definitely not least, Peeta. Words cannot describe how proud I am of you. It's just so incredible that you're here with us. Last year, I honestly thought I would never see you again, but here you are and that makes me the happiest, most proud mother in the whole world. You're the perfect son for me and..." Tears start to well up in her eyes. "And, I...I... I love you..."

Peeta stands up and walks over to Mother. He puts his arms around her and I can see tears trickling down his face too. Seeing that pulls at my heartstrings as well, and it's not long before I'm crying with them.

* * *

><p>My knuckles knock against the door once more, even harder than last time. And the time before, and the time before that. All in all, I've been here for about 10 minutes, just waiting to get inside. Yet again, there is no answer to my knocking.<p>

I knock again, so frustrated that I almost punch a hole in the wood. I know he's in there.

"Haymitch!" I yell at the door. "Stop ignoring me!"

I wait for a moment, seeing whether he'll respond to that instead. But, no, he doesn't.

"Haymitch! I know you're in there!" I shout, banging my fist on the door.

And again, no reply.

This is really starting to get on my nerves now. He's really playing with my anger now, almost tipping me off the edge.

"HAYMITCH ABERNATHY OPEN THIS DOOR OR SO GOD HELP YOU!" I scream.

"I don't believe in a god!" A voice shouts from somewhere inside the house.

Ha. I knew he was in there.

"YOU SHOULD, CUZ YOU'RE GONNA NEED SOME HELP WHEN I BREAK DOWN THIS DOOR!"

"You wouldn't. You couldn't" He sneers from behind the walls.

"I CAN AND I WILL!" I protest, my fists clenched.

"Yeah, sure whatever. Of course you will, cuz you're so tough that you got stage fright in the middle of an interview"

"IT WASN'T STAGE FRIGHT!"

"Whatever you say..."

Yup. Whatever I say.

And I say, lets kick down this door and give old Abernathy a piece of my mind.

I take a few steps back, then pelt towards the door. I throw my body weight into the door and it crashes open, the hinges ripped from the frame and hanging useless on the door.

As I dust myself down, I glare at Haymitch, who returns the look with a horrified expression. _Ha, that'll teach him..._

"Who says I can't, eh?" I walk over to him.

"Calm it sunshine. I was just teasing you. I never thought you would kick the door in" Haymitch says.

"Don't sunshine me. Anyways, I'm not here for an argument"

"Coulda fooled me..."

"Shut up. I'm here to talk about Peeta, like I've been trying to do for the past week, except you've never been in"

"I've had business to attend to"

"You, business?"

"Yeah. Me, business"

"Whatever. Right, we need to talk about Peeta" I say, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

Haymitch does the same and sits opposite me, reaching out for a bottle of whisky.

"Can't you do _anything_ without a drink?" I say, moving the bottle out of his reach. "I need you sober for this, ok?"

"Fine" He sighs. "What is it you want to say then?"

"Peeta can't go into the arena. Not again. There is no way he'll survive, especially against the other Victors. He only just scraped by last year, and that was with help"

"I know and I agree with you. Me and Katniss have been discussing this. She wants Peeta safe as much as you do. And we've tried everything to change his mind, but he's so set on the idea about being there for Katniss"

"Well I've tried too and the same happened..."

"He won't change his mind, Zinny"

I stand up.

"Fine, then we'll change it for him"

"What do you mean?"

"If he's reaped, then you volunteer. That way he won't be able to stop you"

"Yeah, but if I'm reaped then he'll volunteer and _I_ won't be able to stop _him_"

"Great..." I collapse into a seat, feeling defeated. "So there's nothing we can do. He's gonna die"

There's a moment of silence.

"He won't die" Haymitch states.

"Don't say that, you know there's no way possible that he can win this"

"He won't win the Games, but he won't die"

"That's not possible, idiot"

"It is if you have a plan"

* * *

><p>I sigh, pulling out the grips and letting my hair fall loose down my shoulders and back. It seems to formal coiled up like that, and besides, I want to be myself this year. Especially this year.<p>

Well, if I'm going to be myself then I'd better start stripping off the layers of false pretences. Starting with my face, I stand in front of the sink and twist the tap. Cold gushes of water flow out from the tap, collecting in my cupped hands. I bring them up to my face and splash the clear liquid all over my face, washing off the makeup. As I pat my face dry with a soft towel, I look into the steamed mirror. I'm starting to look more like myself, with all the makeup removed from my skin and my hair left flowing comfortably.

Giving my hair a quick comb over, I straighten my dress and go downstairs. It seems that everyone was waiting for me, so I quickly apologise and we leave the house.

Walking down the road, we don't say much. No-one knows what to say really. Mother gave me a strange look when I came downstairs, probably disapproving with the whole removing makeup and hair releasing thing. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. I know what she's thinking; about how she wished I took more pride in my appearance and all that girly stuff. But it's not like don't care about what I look like, I just feel more comfortable in my own skin. Being myself. That's what I want everyone to see when they look at me. Not a girl hiding behind chemicals, pretending to be someone people expect her to be. Just to see me as me. No-one else.

As we get nearer to the main square, we pass small groups of people heading there too. It's not compulsory for them to come, but most people want to show their support. I would appreciate their attendance, if they weren't staring at me so much! Everyone we pass turns to look at me, as if I'm some foreign alien from outer space. Most of them just glance away when I stare back, but a few of them give me dirty looks and whisper to their neighbours. They could at least do it behind my back, not directly in my view. Although, it hasn't got to me as much as I thought it would. I don't seem to react, or even care. I know that they're just not worth it.

Ethan notices the staring too, and I receive a gentle hand squeeze. I return it with a weak smile, starting to feel nervous. I know I shouldn't feel so anxious, we've got a well thought out plan, but some doubt still lingers in my mind. What if the Capitol have already found out? They could do whatever they want to Peeta once he's left the safety of District 12...

"You ok?" Ethan whispers to me as we're directed to a marked off area.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I reply. "Thanks"

"You seem a little on edge"

"Well, what do you expect? I'm hardly gonna be little miss enthusiasm" I say, not intending to sound bitter.

The look on Ethan's face implies that he did take that comment bitterly, as he doesn't say anything in return.

"Oh, Ethan, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just feeling a little nervous, that's all" I quickly recover myself.

"I know, it's ok. I'd be the same" He smiles, assuring me.

Would he?

There's no time for anymore small conversation, as the anthem begins to play and Effie Trinket totters across the stage, still wearing ridiculously high shoes. Once the intro is over, Effie starts talking about the excitement of the Quell and blah, blah, blah. Why doesn't she understand that no-one gives a shit?

"Ok, now is the time to select our courageous female tribute from our existing pool of victors!" She announces, walking over one of the two glass bowls.

There's really no point in her slow, dramatic finger movements as she stands over the bowl. There's only one slip of paper in there anyway, and everyone knows who it's going to be.

"Katniss Everdeen" Effie finally says, plucking out the only slip. "Now, let's move on to the boys"

She walks over to the other bowl, which is almost as pitiful as the first, bearing only two slips. Two names. Haymitch and Peeta. Peeta and Haymitch. Haymitch or Peeta. Peeta or Haymitch.

"Haymitch Abernathy" Effie announces, reading the chosen slip.

But before Haymitch can get to the stage, there's a shout from the crowd. It's Peeta, volunteering. Just as I predicted.

Peeta walks up to the stage and stands next to Effie. She raises both their arms and calls out their names to the crowd. For a second, it seems like deja vu and I have to pinch myself to make sure it is real. Sadly, it is real and there is no turning back now. Peeta is definitely going into the arena and whether he comes out again all depends on the plan.

I catch Haymitch's eye for a moment and he winks at me. The plan is on.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Ok, I hope I got Haymitch roughly right... **

**Well, hope you liked that installment and chapter 12 shall be coming up soon! Don't forget to review and keep reading!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	12. Giant Llama Mutts

**A/N- Ha! See, I told you that I'd be updating quick! In your face any doubters...**

**Right, but before you read this chapter, I need to tell/ask you peeps something. I'm doing a SYOT (you can read the summary if you want cuz I've posted it) but but but... I don't have all the tributes yet! So please please pleaseeee, feel free to (or just do) submit a tribute so I can get started writing it. Some people are waiting to read it, but I can't without tributes! So, I will LOVE YOU FOREVER and may even be nice to your tribute more if you submit one, two or as many as your large brain can think of! Thanks x**

**Ok, so here is chapter 12... and it's a bit of a filler chap sorry :/  
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><p>"Are you one hundred percent sure this plan will work?" I ask, for about the twentieth time in the past half hour.<p>

"Not one hundred, but ninety eight...ish" Haymitch answers from the couch.

"Well ninety eight isn't good enough! We could be risking our lives and not even save anyone else's" I retort to the back of his head, as he's glued to the TV screen.

"It'll work out. Now shut up, I'm trying to watch something" He groans, waving his hand in a gesture hinting for me to leave.

"Pfft, fine, I'm going" I say, stomping out of the lounge, then out of the house completely.

_He's such an arrogant pig_, I think to myself, sitting down on the overgrown grass outside Haymitch's house. I'm worrying about Peeta's life, while he just sits and watches crap on the TV! He's unbelievable and just throws his weight around, bossing people like me around and I won't stand for it anymore. I deserve to know the ins and outs of the plan just as much as he does! All I know is that it involves breaking into the arena via aircraft and taking out some tributes. But how can we do that? I don't even think we have any aircraft available, never mind breaking into the arena.

I snap another blade of grass.

I'm a person too. I'm the freaking sister of the main person we're trying to rescue! I'm not gonna let some filthy, drunken, bad tempered, arrogant, ignorant... Right, enough with the insults, I need to face him and give him a piece of my mind.

I parade back into the house, speaking before I even see him.

"Right, Haymitch. I don't care about any of your excuses, you're gonna tell me straight: What exactly is the plan? And what part do I play in it?"

I hear a low mumbling of voices. Freezing my body, I suddenly realise that Haymitch isn't alone.

There's someone in there, talking with him. Wait, no, there's more than one person. There's about three people, besides Haymitch. Cautious not to be heard, I creep up to the door and place my ear to it.

Just as I do, the door swings open, and I almost fall into the room. Luckily, my foot stops my falling just in time, as I nearly topple head-first.

"Well... what a first impression..." A sly comment comes from somewhere in the room.

I regain balance and look up. Three people sit on the couches, the fourth holding the door and looking down at me, a slight curve in his lip. The man holding the door looks around his forties, with cropped grey hair and kind-looking blue eyes. He can't have spoken those sly words, he seems much to normal and decent. I just hope that he's as nice as he looks.

Glancing over to the couches, I can tell who made that sarcastic comment. The important looking woman sitting opposite Haymitch. She seems way into her fifties, with a sheet of wispy grey hair that falls by her shoulders. She may be quite old, but her voice is young and strong. I'm not sure I like the look of her, but I think the feeling is mutual. The way she's looking at me, is like I'm a stray dog who's rooting through her bins.

"This is her, Zinnia, I'm presuming?" She asks Haymitch, still not removing her eyes from me.

"Yeah, this is her" Haymitch nods, also noticing me.

"Hey, I am here you know. There's no need to talk as if I'm not here" I say, annoyed.

"You shouldn't be, though" Haymitch mutters, but loud enough to make sure I heard.

"Why not? I deserve to know every detail about the plan" I say, then add. "I'm guessing this is the reason you've got three important looking strangers sitting in your lounge?"

"Yeah, well it turns out that these 'important looking people' are leaders from District Thirteen" He says. "And this lady here, is President Coin"

"Oh, what an honour to meet you" I remark sarcastically, doing a little curtsey to wind her up.

"Oh no, the honour is all mine, Miss Mellark" Coin smiles, trying to play at my game.

There's a small cough and everyone turns. The kind-looking man, who's name turns out to be Boggs, is still standing by the door.

"Ahem, sorry to interrupt your greetings, but we really do have business to get to and we're running short on time" He says, tapping his watch.

"Ah yes, you're absolutely right, Boggs" Coin agrees, then turns to Haymitch. "So, shall we run through the procedure?

I decide to stay; I want to here this. So I walk over and perch myself on an arm of the couch. Coin takes notice of my close presence and I can see that she's not particularly comfortable with me so close. But she makes no fuss and pulls out a large sheet of paper.

"Right, so we've been studying the layout of the Capitol and the arena, and we think if we follow this highlighted route, then it will lead us here" Her long fingernails draw along the surface of the paper. "Once we get there, then we'll use some new technology systems we've been working on and that will grant us access to the inside of the arena"

Haymitch nods, seeming quite engrossed with the sketches and the well thought out plan. I seem quite impressed too, maybe his 'ninety eight' has increased to 'ninety nine point seven'.

"Ok, so after we get inside the arena, we'll be high enough to see the tributes. Katniss will have no tracker in her arm if things go well, but we'll be able to spot her quickly, unlike the Capitol. Then, we locate everyone involved and send extensions to reach down and pluck them out of the arena like picking petals from a daisy. Then all we do afterwards, is zoom out of the arena and head back to Thirteen. Simple" She finishes, seeming quite pleased with herself.

I doubt she came up with the whole plan herself, but even so, it's a pretty secure plan. I don't see much room for faults. But on paper, everything sounds 'simple', as Coin would say, however, carrying out the plan may prove to be harder...

"So, what do you think?" Coin asks Haymitch, sitting back a little.

He strokes his chin, thinking a bit. "Hmm, sounds pretty good to me"

"Yeah, it may look easy from the diagrams, but how do we know that everything will play out?" I cut in.

"Everything has been carefully thought out" Coin says, a fake smile on her face that's itching to scowl.

"You can say that, in fact you can say whatever you want, but how do I know for sure?" I question.

"Because I've checked everything and you can see that on the diagrams" She says quite arrogantly.

"I know, but you can't see everything on one diagram" I remark.

"As I've said before, everything has been carefully thought out" She says and I can see that I'm starting to get to her.

_Just a few more comments and she won't be able to act all nicey-nice with me..._

"Yes, but _how_ do I know? You could be making any old story up, hiding the faults" I point out.

"Are you calling me a liar?" She accuses.

I make a fake gasp. "Are you accusing me of such a thing? I'm merely just making sure that I agree with everything"

"And I'm just telling you that _everything is sorted_" She says bitterly, my pushing getting her close to the edge.

_So close, yet so far away..._

"For now, maybe. But what if something unexpected arises?" I query.

"Like what?" She says, her eyebrows arched.

"I dunno, like, what if the Capitol sees the aircraft _before_ it gets in the arena?"

"They won't see us. Our route specially avoids any cameras. Besides, everyone will be too focused on the Quell, that they won't notice a thing" She explains, partially grinning to herself.

"Fair do... But, what if... the tributes are already dead?"

"They won't be. We have some tributes that are in with the plan and have been instructed to keep the likes of Katniss and Peeta alive"

"Really? Well then, you do have most fields covered. But, aha, what if the aircraft suddenly breaks down?"

"It won't. It's been built professionally and nothing could possibly go wrong"

"What if it's raining and we all get electrocuted?"

"There's nothing electrical on the outside of the craft"

"What if it's windy?"

"The aircraft is durable"

"What if it's hot and the metal melts?"

"It can't melt"

"It can"

"It won't"

"It might"

"It. Won't." Her tone has sounded more and more impatient each time I've spoken, but now she seems teetering on the verge of self destruction.

Perfect.

"Fine. It won't melt... But what's saving us if a giant llama mutt starts eating the aircraft?"

"A giant llama mutt? Now you're just being ridiculous and immature" She snaps at me, clearly annoyed to her full capacity.

"Gees, I'm just eliminating the possibilities... But, everything seems under control in your head"

"It. Is. Under. Control."

"I'm sure it is" I smile falsely. "Hey, no offence and all, but how many arena break-ins have you done recently? I'm guessing not many, in fact none at all. It's never been done. _So how do you know that it will work out_?"

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" She screams at me, her face flushed with anger. Her eyes flame and her nostrils are flaring. I can see her hands clenched so tight that her knuckles are going white.

_I've hit the jackpot..._

"I have had heard just about enough from you, Missy. I don't know who you think you are, walking in here and questioning me like that. I've tried being nice and civil with you, but all I get back is your cheek and immature comments!" Coin retorts to me, then she turns to Haymitch. "We're leaving now and I suggest that you have a word her"

"Will do" Haymitch agrees. "The plan is still on, right?"

"Of course. I'm not going to let everyone suffer because of one stupid girl" She says so sourly, you would swear she was a rotten lemon, mould and all.

"A pleasure meeting you too" I call to her back as she heads out the back door.

She doesn't reply, but I'm pretty sure I heard her huff angrily.

As he walks past me, Boggs whispers in my ear. "That was a bad idea, what you just did. But, for the record, I found it hilarious"

He winks at me as he disappears out the door as well, leaving just me and Haymitch.

"She was nice, wasn't she?" I smile sweetly.

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><p>Haymitch didn't give me much of a lecture. Just a few words saying that she's the president and I'll come to regret it and blah di blah. For a while I thought he'd become as boring as her, but afterwards he cracked up. Cracked up laughing, that is. It turns out that he does have a sense of humour...<p>

"Oh, Zinny, I don't know how you did that with a straight face" He says, wiping a tear from his eye. "It was amazing! I almost cracked up a few times and it wasn't even me talking to her"

"Years of practise, I guess" I shrug modestly.

"Well, I've come across a few people that like to wind others up, but none that would consider winding up the president of their new home"

I'm just about to say something back, when I hesitate. Did he just say... _new home?_

"What do you mean, my new home?" I ask dryly.

"District Thirteen" He replies.

"I'm moving to thirteen?"

"Well, yeah. There's no point staying in twelve. We have more plans and we'll need to be there anyway. If there's a rebellion, then we'll need support and equipment etc from thirteen"

"And why wasn't I told this?"

"You didn't need to know then. I wasn't gonna tell you the full plan at first either. But now you're gonna be on the team..."

"I'm on the team?"

"Well, yeah. You're in with the plan now and you seem to have great potential to be very helpful in the future... So welcome to the team"

"Sweet! So, if I'm on the team, is there anything else I need to know?"

"Hmm, yeah, quite a lot. But let's start with the Quell and our secret alliance"

* * *

><p>He's in it. He's in the Games. He's in the alliance.<p>

The 'he' being Finnick.

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><p><strong>AN- Yeah, I wasn't too keen on this chapter myself but I tried adding some nice sarcastic and funny moments in there. Nothing much happened I know, but this stuff needed to be written so the rest of the story makes sense. Oh, and what about the ending? Ooooohhh...**

**Anywho, as I said before, I NEED YOUR TRIBUTES (yes, personally _you. _I'm also talking to you little/large/medium person reading this) FOR MY NEW SYOT, SO PLEASE SUBMIT AND I'LL LOVE YOU xxx**

**Also, you don't have to, but if you want to submit then thanks a lot x And please continue reading and reviewing this!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	13. When Sorry Doesn't Count

**A/N- Yes, I am still on a roll with this thing! I'm managing to keep up with this fast uploading, you'll be glad to know!**

**Sadly, but happily at the same time, there are only 2 more chapters after this one! But then it will be part 3 and all will be good again x**

**Disclaimer: I still haven't murdered and stolen Suzanne Collins' identity, so I'm just plain me :)  
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><p>I throw another damp, crumpled tissue to the floor. It stays among many others, forming a little sea of tissues, hiding the carpet. My hand automatically reaches for another, but the box is bare. Empty. Completely hollow and empty.<p>

I draw my legs up to my chest and hug my knees tightly, wiping my eyes on my trousers instead. It leaves behind a nice little darkened patch, not that I care anyway, no-one is going to see. In fact, no-one has seen me since the day after the reaping, about three days ago and I don't intend on showing my face until tomorrow.

Of course, I've had some food, but that was just left outside my room for me to take. Even so, I haven't eaten much, just the occasional bite here and their to keep me alive. Truthfully, it's not the food that's keeping me alive, it's the hope. The plan. Whenever I feel the lowest of the low, I remind myself of the plan. I remind myself that Peeta will be safe soon and that we'll all escape from the Capitol and live happily ever after... ok, maybe not the last part, but I had to keep positive.

So why, if I know everything will be ok, do I still lock myself away from everyone and drift in and out of tears? Why do I refuse to speak to anyone? Why do I sit alone, in a darkened room, staring into space?

Because the plan reminds me of other things too.

Things that I'd like to remember, but make me depressed when I do remember them. It's an awkward situation I'm in with my brain. Part of me smiles whenever I think of those memories, while the other half weeps.

Those memories of Finnick.

Like the day we first met; when he found me crying on the floor and mopped up my tears. When he put a smile on my face with his sugar cubes and cheeky grin. I'll never forget how he helped me get through those bad times. And I'll never forget the times when I wasn't sad either.

Like when we'd sneak off and explore the mansion, playing tricks on passing people and sprinting away before we got caught. Or the times when we'd just sit and talk and laugh, enjoying each other's company. I did enjoy his company and he enjoyed mine. We were like two peas in a pod.

Until we got shelled out the pod by Snow and his friend Monroe, also known as my biological father. Then everything spiralled out of control and I lost my best friend. Well, in my defence, I didn't lose him. He walked away.

He hurt me in a way that can't be ever forgotten and rarely forgiven. He turned the cheek on me, especially when I needed him more than ever. And I think to myself, in my room, feeling like a hermit, that the last time I saw him was when he found out about Monroe. And those last words he spoke to me stung like a thousand tracker-jackers. _No, I don't know you._

So seeing him in the Games again, knowing that he'll be back in my life, triggered off a whole train of emotions. Hence the locking myself in my room; I figured that I'd rather deal with this alone.

My parents tried coaxing me out, so did pretty much everyone I know, but none succeeded. However, they will at last see me tomorrow, but not for long, as Haymitch is picking me up early so we can begin the plan and rescue Peeta. Peeta, who would be dead right now if it weren't for... Finnick, typically.

Yeah, Peeta was stupid enough to accidentally walk straight into a force field and almost died, if it weren't for Finnick performing CPR. I'm glad Peeta's alive, but now Finnick will have something over me. I'm supposed to hate him for abandoning me, but how can I when everything he does just makes me realise how much I miss him?

"Ugh! Why do you have to be so annoying!" I scream, flinging a cushion across the room.

It hits the bookshelf that stands in front of the door and knocks a book. It lands with a thud and the pages bend.

Just a few moments later, a knock comes at the door.

"Zinny? Are you ok? I heard you shout then something bang" Ethan's worried voice comes from outside the room.

"I'm fine." I reply bluntly.

"No you're not. You've been locked in there for days now, I'm really worried about you" He says.

"Don't bother worrying over me" I murmur.

"What?" He asks, not hearing me.

"Nothing"

"Fine. Well, I'll just go then"

I don't say anything, just listen to his footsteps fading as he walks away and down the stairs.

I start to feel a little guilty about the way I spoke to him. He didn't really deserve my attitude, did he? He's just trying to help and all I give in return is the cold shoulder. He does genuinely care about me. I wish he didn't. That way, everything wouldn't be as complicated as it is.

I squeeze my eyelids together and try to cool myself down. I'm feeling quite agitated and need to snap out of this mood before I start trashing the place... Which I've already done, the other day. But in one of my calm moods, I fixed it all and tidied the room. It was sort of stress relieving, I guess.

I'm just about to experiment with some meditation, when I hear a noise from my window. It's a scuffling noise, followed by some type of grunting and then a tap on the glass. Confused, I walk over to the window and pull open the curtains. It's Ethan, holding onto the window ledge and looking pretty unstable.

"Ethan, what the hell are you doing?" I ask, pulling him inside before he falls and breaks his neck or something.

"Well, you wouldn't open the door, so I decided to go through the window instead" He replies, dusting himself down.

"That's crazy, you could have seriously hurt yourself if you fell" I say.

"Well, people do crazy things for those they love" He gives me a half smile and reaches out to touch my arm.

I flinch and pull my arm away. Ethan freezes and looks at me worryingly.

"Zinny? What's wrong; have I done something?" He asks, his eyebrows knitted in a tight frown.

"No... I, um..." I stammer.

"No. Stop hiding things from me! I've noticed you changing over the past few weeks and you seem to be edging away from me, especially after the reaping, you won't even look me in the eye"

"Ethan-"

"I just don't get it, Zinny, I really don't. Why all of a sudden am I a stranger to you?"

"It's not your fault, it's mine. It's complicated"

"Then tell me; explain to me what's inside your head, cuz I'm starting to think that you don't love me anymore"

There's a silence.

"That's it. You don't love me, do you?" Ethan asks me, staring into my eyes.

I want to say yes, but I can't look at him directly and lie, so I shake my head instead.

"I'm sorry, Ethan..."

He starts to pace up and down the room, his breathing rate increasing.

He keeps muttering to himself. "I knew it, I just knew it. But did I ask, no... I was too convinced that _she'd tell me_!"

"Ethan, please don't-" I start sobbing, trying to reason with him.

He doesn't respond.

"Right, who is it?" He asks, turning around sharply to face me.

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb, Zinny. Who is the other guy?" He asks.

"There's no..."

"Who. Is. The. Other. Guy?" He demands.

When I don't answer, he starts to walk around again.

"It's that Hawthorne, isn't it?" He says. "I know he made you that squirrel"

"No, it's not" I try to tell him, but he ignores me.

"I'm gonna kill that Gale. In fact, I'm gonna go round there right now" He says, his fists tightly clenched.

He walks over to the bookshelf and begins to push it away from the door. I try to get in his way to stop him, but he just shoves past me.

"IT'S FINNICK!" I suddenly yell.

Ethan turns to me, his face red.

"Finnick, as in that Victor from four that everyone's in love with?" He questions.

I nod slowly, my eyes looking to the floor.

"You stop loving me for Finnick fucking Odair?" He cries out. "After all we've been through, you stop loving me for a crush on a famous Victor?"

"It's not a crush!" I protest. "We used to be really close when I was in the mansion"

"Oh. Well I see how it is then..." He nods his head slowly. "You couldn't stay with your precious boyfriend, so you befriended me instead. I'm second best aren't I?"

I'm really crying now. "I loved you, I really did. But-"

He slams his fists on a chest of draws, sending vibrations down the wood. "I can't listen to this"

"Ethan, I" I try to say, reaching out to touch him.

He pushes my arm aside and I'm knocked off balance. I crash into the side of the wardrobe, hurting my shoulder and sending me in a phase.

Ethan's face suddenly changes when he sees I'm hurt. He tries to check if I'm ok, but I shove past him and run to the window. It's still open and I duck under it and climb out, my hands shaking as I scramble down to ground level.

Tears soak my face as I run from the house, petrified. I've never seen Ethan like this before and seeing it now makes me shiver with fear. It seems like I'm not the only one who has changed.

In the distance I can hear him calling after me, so I blank it out. I'm running away from the house and turn down one of the roads. The gate to the front garden is slightly ajar, so I push it open and make my way down the path, still seeming off balance.

Shakily, I knock on the front door and wait for a response. The door opens seconds later.

"Haymitch, please can I come in for a while?" I ask, my voice quivering.

"Of course, you can stay in the spare room tonight if you want" He offers, taking my arm and bringing me inside. "And, you may want a drink to calm yourself down"

Normally, I'd say no, but today I can't think of anything else I need better that a small drop of alcohol. Haymitch puts a splash in the bottom of a glass and hands it to me. I take it eagerly and swallow it in one. It burns down my throat as I gulp it down, but boy does it feel good.

"Another?" Haymitch asks encouragingly.

"I think I'll be needed more than that" I admit, holding out my glass for another round.

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><p><strong>AN- Hmmm that was a short chapter, wasn't it? Oh well, it's as long as it needed to be and there's nothing else I can include, so if you wanted longer then shoot me. Not literally. That wouldn't be good.**

**Anyways, thanking everyone for their support so far and please keep reading and reviewing! I love you lots like jelly tots. (I've never been fond of that expression actually)**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	14. Flying literally

**A/N-? Ugh, tiny chickens have invaded. (for those who are not Nerdfighters, this means I am ill), I got a day off school which is awesome, but not so great when I feel like... um... something ill?**

**Right, well this is the second to last chapter! DUN DUN DUUUNNN! I hope you like it, cuz I've been looking forward to a certain scene...  
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><p>I wake to the smell of burnt toast and over-brewed coffee. I yawn and stretch out my limbs, shaking off the sleep. Stopping suddenly, I take a look at my surroundings. This isn't familiar at all. My bedroom isn't painted pale yellow, and it certainly isn't this small. Where am I?<p>

I swing my legs around and get out of the bed. I then notice that I'm still wearing the clothes from yesterday. They're a little creased and rolled up in places. As I take my first step of the morning, I have to grab hold of a chest of drawers for balance. My head is spinning wildly out of control and I can't seem to get a grip on myself.

_Think, Zinny. Think. Where were you last night? _

Haymitch's.

It all comes flooding back to me now. The argument with Ethan, the push and then me running away. A sick taste arises in the back of my throat when I remember it all. Remembering how Ethan reacted yesterday and how shocked I was. I'd never once thought that he would ever fly off the handle like that. And although he didn't hit me directly, he still pushed me. He would never do that, I had thought. But yesterday proved me wrong, didn't it?

Very cautiously, I make my way down the stairs, clutching to the rail to stop me from falling. I stumble through the rooms and into the kitchen. Haymitch is sitting at the table, chewing on some toast, with a mug in his other hand. He snorts loudly as I walk in and erupts into a fit of laughter.

"Your first hangover, eh?" He laughs at me as I wobble into the room.

"And what if it is?" I say, pulling out a chair.

"Then I'll tell you that the first is usually the worst" He replies in mid chew.

"I think I'll have to agree with you there" I collapse on a chair.

Haymitch chuckles and pushes a mug across the table.

"Here, drink this. It works wonders" He says.

"Tah" I say, taking the mug and sipping a little.

It's got to be the strongest coffee I've ever drank. Rich, black liquid that burns down my throat, but instantly refreshes me.

"It's strong" I state, putting down the mug.

"You bet it is" Haymitch then pushes a plate towards me. "Eat some toast with it. It'll work better"

I take a look at the blackened piece of bread. It looks kinda gross, but I take a bite anyway. It crunches against my teeth and the taste is bitter. Very black and bitter. Nevertheless, I get through two rounds of it and finish my coffee.

"Feeling better?" Haymitch asks, taking the plate and dumping it in the sink.

"A bit, thanks. I'll feel much better after a shower" I hint.

"Sure, go ahead. The bathroom is just on your left as you reach the top of the stairs" He says. "Don't be too long though, we're supposed to be meeting with the rest of the team in twenty minutes"

"Twenty minutes?" I repeat in shock.

"Uh huh. You'd better hurry up then" He shoos me upstairs.

I race into the bathroom and quickly flick on the shower. My clothes come peeling off in seconds and I'm in the shower before I can say Happy Hunger Games. The hot water is cruel against my skin, battering against the dirt and sweat. It practically scrapes off a layer of skin, leaving a shiny, clean new layer underneath. I tilt my head back and let the water run down my face, and body. I would stay in here all day if it weren't for the plan.

Jumping out of the shower, I grab a spare towel and pat myself dry. I wrap it around my body and head back to the spare bedroom. Haymitch has kindly left me some clothes lying on the bed and I close the door behind me.

The clothes are just a pair of plain camo trousers, a black t-shirt and some old brown boots. I hesitate no longer and slip into them. They seem just the right size, fortunately, although the boots are a little wide at the toes. I have just enough time to brush through my hair and tie it back into a ponytail, before running back downstairs.

"All done?" Haymitch asks, opening the front door.

"Yup" I answer in response and walk outside.

It's still early, probably between six and seven am. The air is a little chilly, as the sun is only just peeking out in the distance. I wait for Haymitch to lock up and then follow him down the path and through the Victor's Village.

We walk all through the main town centre, the world silent around us. Not many people are awake now, just a few here and there, who don't take any notice of us. Haymitch turns down a small alley and I follow. It seems to drag on forever, when it finally opens up. I then see that we're at the edge of the District and the fence is just in front of us.

I listen carefully, but the sound of low humming is absent. The gate mustn't be on, thankfully. I look to Haymitch.

"Where are they?" I ask, looking around but seeing no-one else.

"They'll be here in approximately twenty seconds" He replies, checking his watch.

And nineteen seconds later, I see a large helicopter land about 500 metres away, beyond the fence.

"Right, that's them. We need to go over there and meet them" Haymitch tells me, ducking under the gap in the fence where I last went through when Ethan was close to death.

I shake my mind free of the memory and duck under after him. Our pace quickens up towards the helicopter and a few minutes later, we're inside.

A small group of people stand around, talking barely above a whisper. I recognise Boggs straight away and he turns to smile at me.

"Hey, Zinnia. What do you think of this beauty, eh?" He asks.

"Swanky" I reply.

He chuckles and walks over to me and Haymitch.

"How's the time going?" Haymitch asks him. "Got enough to get there as planned?"

"We're bang on schedule. I think we're about to take off in a minute" Boggs says, reading something off his clipboard. "Hey, Howard! We ready to take flight?"

Howard, I'm guessing is the pilot, puts his thumbs up and speaks into a small microphone.

"Ok, everyone on board, we're about to take off, so please get into your allocated seats"

I look over to Boggs, who takes my arm and walks me to the front of the seating area. He sits down in his seat and fastens his seat belt.

"Zinnia, you're next to me here" He says. "And Haymitch, you're just behind"

I take the seat and buckle the belt in. "How come I get to sit at the front with you?"

"Ah, special treatment for the only girl on the aircraft" He winks, then drops to a low whisper. "And I'd prefer your company to old Abernathy's"

I smile at him. "I'm sure he's not that bad"

"Nah, he's alright is Haymitch. Just don't catch him off guard when he's been drinking. It can get nasty"

"When is he not drinking?" I laugh, a little too loud and Haymitch's head leans forward just between us.

"I hope you two aren't talking about me" He says.

"Of course not. You're not the only alcoholic I know" Boggs chuckles, leaning back in his seat.

There's a low rumbling sound and the helicopter starts to vibrate. The noise gets louder and louder as the propeller gathers speed. I gasp as we begin to lift off the ground. I've never flown before and it feels so strange, not to have gravity keeping you down. I like the feeling.

"Wow" I breathe.

"It's a shame we have no windows back here" Boggs says. "But then again, it's all part of the fun"

"It's amazing" I gasp.

"It gets better once we can walk around"

"We can walk inside when we're flying?" I exclaim in astonishment.

"Sure we can. This is from District Thirteen, and we do only make the finest"

And it's true. A few minutes of being in the air and a small dinging sound echoes around the craft.

"Ah, that means it's free to wander" Boggs tells me, unfastening his seat belt and standing up.

I do the same, stepping carefully first, then once I realise it's safe, I begin to walk around normally.

"How long until we reach the arena?" I ask.

"Not too long, I'd say about a couple of hours tops" He answers.

"Awesome" I say excitedly, but inside I'm starting to feel nervous. Not because of the Capitol, but because in a few hours time, I'll see Finnick.

* * *

><p>"Ha! Three in a row! I win... again!" I say, circling the row of three crosses on the grid.<p>

Boggs sighs, scratching his forehead. "How many times is that; five?"

"Six" I correct him, taking pleasure in my victory.

"How do you keep doing it?" He asks.

"Practise, I guess" I shrug.

"More like cheating" He says, folding his arms in a gruff.

I laugh at his childish behaviour. "Oh, you're such a bad loser"

"I am not"

"Bad loser"

"Not"

"Bad loser"

"Not"

Haymitch walks over, interrupting my teasing.

"Hey, you two kids. Just wanted to let you know that we're heading towards the arena"

"Really, so soon?" I say, surprised at how fast time has gone.

Haymitch nods and Boggs stands up, grabbing his clipboard.

"Right, I'd better go and get prepared. You two wait here and do as you're instructed" Boggs orders.

We nod obediently and sit back down.

Neither of us speaks. Haymitch seems to be concentrating on something or other, and I can't prize my mind away from the thoughts swirling around.

_What will Finnick do when he sees me? Will he ignore me and walk away? Or will he come and beg me for forgiveness? What will he say to me? What will I say to him?_

I'm staring into space when I hear a small triumphant cheer from the front section of the helicopter. We must have broken into the arena.

Everything after that goes so quickly. People run around the craft, giving orders and pressing buttons on control panels. I'm ushered into a small room at the back of the helicopter. I stand still, not knowing what I'm supposed to do. If I'm supposed to do anything.

Five minutes pass and I'm still alone in the room. I start to chew my fingers impatiently, with nothing else to do but wait for further instructions.

Ten minutes pass and I'm still alone. Now, I've resorted to untying and retying my shoe laces, to keep me from dying of boredom. Still, no-one has come to find me.

Fifteen minutes pass and I'm still alone in the room, but now I can hear voices. I press my ear to the door to see if I can pick up what they're saying. I can hear them, but can't quite make out what they're saying. There seems to be about three people in the room.

I keep trying to pick up on the conversation, but then it goes quiet. I think they've gone.

Just out of curiosity, I check if the door is locked. It isn't, so I carefully turn the handle and peep my head inside. The room seems empty, but I still move the rest of my body in. I turn to close the door behind me, and as I do, a voice comes from somewhere behind.

"Zinny?"

I whirl around to see Finnick standing on the opposite side of the room, staring at me.

My heart flutters and I can't contain myself from shouting his name.

"Finnick!" I cry, starting to run towards him.

"Zinny!" He cries back and also starts to run.

Neither of us stops in time, so we end up colliding into each other. My arms reach up and wrap around his neck, pulling him down to me. I press my lips against his.

He doesn't pull back, but deepens the kiss. I feel his arms coming against my back, holding me close. My hands feel his muscles in his neck tense and relax, tense and relax. My fingers twine through his hair and I breathe in his scent. The scent of the beach, the waves, the sand. The scent of his body against mine. The scent I missed so much.

At last his lips lift off mine and he rests his head on my shoulder, whispering in my ear.

"I am so sorry, Zinny. I didn't-"

I pull back and rest my finger on his lips. "Shh, not now"

He nods and pulls me back into him, kissing my lips again and stroking his fingers down my back. My own fingers run down his chest, tracing his muscles under his shirt.

"Zinny, I love you" He murmurs to me.

"I love you too"

"You don't know how much I've missed you"

"I'm sure I can guess"

He pulls back and holds my arms, looking deeply into my eyes.

"I am so sorry about everything I did, you know" He tells me, stroking my cheek.

"It's ok, I know" I say, leaning my head on his chest.

"I promise you that I'll never walk away like that. Never"

"And I'll never leave without saying goodbye"

"Good"

"Good"

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><p><strong>AN- AWWWWWWWW was it just me or did any of you find that a cute ending? I thought it was cute when I was writing it :D**

**Anyways, for those people who don't know, I am writing a SYOT and I need 10 more tributes if you want to quickly submit one then thanks a lot! I need to get it posted asap, so give me your tributes and see them either die or win! Yay.**

**Chapter 15 (the final chapter) is going to be written either tomorow or some day soon and should be posted up within the next few days!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama x**


	15. Gone

**A/N- Yes, this is the last chapter :(**

**I've hoped to make it a dramatic end for you! I wrote this while sitting outside in the strangely hot English weather on a wall. I've decided I like this wall, so I may write there more often... If the weather lasts...**

**Anyways, here is the final chapter of part 2! Enjoy x  
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><p>I hated saying goodbye to Finnick. Hated seeing the sadness in his ocean eyes.. Hated releasing my grips on his hands. Everything about saying goodbye was horrible. It just seemed so final, although we both knew it was only for a short while.<p>

I don't know why people say goodbye. Aren't goodbyes supposed to be sad? You're leaving someone, so why is that good? What makes it good?

Once we'd finally let go, after about a billion little kisses, I was dropped back off in Twelve. I'm here to explain to my parents, and Katniss' mother and Prim I guess, about the plan. Boggs said it would be easier if I went, alone. That way they'd listen and we'd have a better chance of persuading them to come to Thirteen. I know it will be hard for them to leave their home behind, I've only just gotten over it. But it's for their own safety. If the Capitol want revenge on us, then they'll go for our families first. We can't let them suffer because of us, so they'll have to agree. They _have _to come.

I stand in front of our house, not the old one above the bakery, but the new one in Victors' Village. I look up to my bedroom window. It's still open. Why is it open?

Slightly confused, I walk up to the front door and pull on the handle. It pulls down easily and the door swings open. Stepping into the house, a strange feeling greets me. The house doesn't seem feel like the house I left a few days ago. It seems quiet. Too quiet. Almost desolate and abandoned.

"Mother? Father?" I call unsurely. "Flynn? Freddie?"

There's no reply. Just the sound of silence answers my call.

"Um, hello? Is anyone here?" I ask out loud walking into the lounge.

The lounge seems quite normal; all the furniture the same. I'm about to check the kitchen when out of the corner of my eye I spot something. My mother's sewing basket is out. All the threads are lined up inside the basket, but an apron lies on the sofa, pins poking out in every direction. I stare at it for a while, thinking. Mother never leaves unfinished sewing out, especially ones covered in pins. It's unheard of. She's always been such a neat and tidy person, often complaining if things are left out. And her number one rule: Never leave the sewing kit out; pins and tiny little buttons could get lost or trodden on. So why am I staring at it now?

It must be a mistake. An accident I try to shake it off and go or some air in the back garden. But as I step outside, I spot yet another odd thing. My father's shovel is sticking up from the earth. He too would never leave it out, especially not stuck in the soil. He says that leaving metal in there is bad for the plants. Something about the minerals in the soil or whatever.

I take a step back. What is going on? Is this some sick trick?

"Guys, I'm a little creeped out. Could you stop this and cut to the chase already?" I say loudly. "You've won, I'm scared"

No-one comes.

I can feel my palms getting sweaty and my heart rate increasing. There's something wrong here and I need to find out why.

I take off in the direction of the main town, leaving the door hanging open. I don't care if anyone can walk in, there doesn't seem to be anyone here anyway.

* * *

><p>I sense panic when I enter the centre of the town. There's something in the vibes within the air that sends a chill down my spine. Something has happened.<p>

Then I smell it. Smoke. And it's not far away, coming from the East. I quicken my pace and follow the smell, searching for it's source. I find it soon enough.

The Hob is on fire, thick clouds of deathly smoke pouring from windows, doors and gaps in the patched roof. Well, what's left of the roof. I run to the scene, but my path is blocked by two women. Their faces look pale and their bodies are shaking with fear.

"Stay back here" One of them tells me. "It's too dangerous in there"

I glance over her shoulder to the burning market place, half of it already lying in a collapsed heap. "What happened?"

"Bombs, from the Capitol. It happened about half and hour ago" The other replies.

"Bombs?" I repeat.

"Yes. One minute everything was normal, and the next thing, bang and the Hob was on fire" She explains.

"Is anyone hurt?" I ask.

"Plenty, yes. Many people were around when it happened. Some even in there when it exploded"

My voice goes to a whisper. "Did some of them... _die_?"

"They must have. But some of the men are trying to free others before the rest collapses"

"Have there been any others?" I ask. "Bombs, I mean"

They both look solemnly.

"Whereabouts?" I ask, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Near the school, I think" One answers.

My body stiffens. The bakery is near the school. You can see the yard from my old bedroom window.

"What is it, dear?" She asks, concerned with my reaction.

"The school... you said. My...erm... family's bakery is... near the...school" I stutter.

"I'm sure-" I don't get to hear the end of the sentence, as I've sped off running towards the bakery.

My heart is pounding through my chest, threatening to burst through my rib cage. I'm praying that a bomb hasn't hit the bakery. _Please, please, please. Don't let anyone be hurt..._

I skid to a sharp halt, standing before the bakery. It hasn't collapsed, so it mustn't have been directly hit, but smoke is drifting out an open window and I can hear small fires crackling behind the crumbling walls.

Without pausing to think, I rush to the door and push it. It opens with ease and I step through the wall of black smoke.

Once inside, the air is somewhat clearer, though I still cough badly from the wafts of smoke entering my lungs.

Cupping my hands around my mouth, I call. "Mother, Father? Is anyone in here?"

No-one replies, but I hear a small crash from the next room.

Ducking lower where there's less smoke, I move towards the door, dodging little flames.

"Hello? Is someone in there?" I shout.

I hear a cough and someone's croaky voice answers. "Yeah, I'm stuck in here!"

I can't make out who the voice belongs to, but I step back and kick the door. It doesn't open. I kick it again. It doesn't open.

"It's useless, the door is jammed" The person says.

"I won't leave you" I call, looking around the half burnt room.

I spot a large piece of wood that hasn't caught fire yet. Quickly, I bend down and pick it up. It's fairly heavy, but it'll work. Gripping it firmly with both hands, I thrust it into the door. After a few hits, the hinges break and the door falls down, a huge wave of smoke engulfing my body. I cower my head as it slowly thins out, leaving me standing facing the person. It's still smoky, but I can make out their face. Ethan.

"Zinny? What are you doing here?" He gasps.

"I could ask you the same question, but for now it'll have to wait. The place is gonna collapse and the smoke's not helping either" I say.

"Good plan" He says, while coughing. "Lets get the hell outta here"

He comes forward and I turn to head out the building through the way I came in. Then, without warning, Ethan yells something and I feel his hands slamming into my back, sending my flying forwards.

A loud crash comes straight after my fall, but it's not from me. A little shaken, I stumble to my feet and look behind me.

A large, heavy looking beam has fallen from the doorway, exactly where I'd just been standing. But instead, Ethan lies in my place, the beam lying across his back.

"Ethan!" I scream in fear, rushing beside him.

His face is black with soot and his arms are badly cut and bruised. He's breathing, but just barely.

"Ethan!" I call out to him, trying to push the beam off his limp body.

It's heavy and refuses to budge, but I keep trying.

"Zinny" He coughs. "It's too heavy, you can't push it"

"No, I have to try" I insist, using all my limited strength against the beam.

Ethan's weak hand takes my wrist. "Stop"

I sniff, but let go.

"You have to get out of here, Zinny. It's not safe; the whole building will collapse on you" He orders.

I sit down, refusing to move. "No way am I going to leave you"

"But you'll get hurt" He says.

"I don't care if I burn alive. I'm not leaving you"

He sighs weakly," Fine, I know I can't win an argument with you"

I give him a smile. "That's right"

Ethan coughs again, the weight from the beam crushing down on his fragile back. I start to cry a little, watching him suffer, knowing that I can't do anything to help him.

"Ethan" I begin, quietly. "You pushed me out of the way"

He gives a brief nod.

"Why would you do that? I thought you hated me now" I ask him.

"I could never hate you, Zinny. I was just jealous. But I would never let you get hurt"

"So you'd sacrifice yourself... for me?"

"Of course. Besides, you more valuable than me"

He suddenly coughs violently, black stuff leaving his mouth.

"Ethan?" I say worriedly, shaking his arm lightly.

His eyes flicker open, his face still twisted with pain.

"I'm not gone yet"

"Oh, Ethan" I say, kissing his forehead. "I am so sorry"

"Nah, I should be the one apologising, not you" He insists.

There's a short silence between us, then Ethan breaks it by whispering.

"I love you"

A tear trickles down my face, dropping onto his dusty cheek. But before I can say something back to him, someone comes crashing into the room and starts throwing buckets of water onto the miniature fires dotted around.

He spots me. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"It's my friend, he's stuck" I tell him. "He needs help"

The man puts down his bucket and comes to us. He immediately bends down and tries to shift the beam. It's clearly too heavy for him too and he looks to me.

"It don't think we'll be able to move it without more help" He says.

I'm about to respond when I hear something crack , and a piece of ceiling falls down a few metres away I stare at it, beginning to panic.

"I think this place is gonna go any minute now" The man says, standing up.

Saying this, another chunk of ceiling falls. I look up and see a large crack forming quickly. The ceiling could go at any second.

"But-" I begin, just as a crumbling sound echoes from above me.

I can see the walls quivering slightly. It must be vibrations from another bomb somewhere else in the District. This will make the ceiling even more unstable.

"Right, we've got to go- NOW!" The man says, grabbing my arm.

I struggle as he pulls me away from Ethan, but I'm too weak from all the smoke I've breathed in and can only manage a scream in protest.

"Let me go! I need to stay with Ethan!"

"It'll collapse on you; he's gone anyway"

"No! He's not gone yet! I can still save him!"

"No you can't"

"Then let me stay with him at least!"

The man ignores me and hauls me out of the crumbling building, just in time as the walls cave in and everything falls to the ground. The last things I see are Ethan's eyes, watching me, making sure I was safe. Then everything comes down on him and he's gone. He's gone before I even had the chance to tell him I loved him too.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- So that was the end. Was it dramatic enough for you? I'm sorry to those people who liked Ethan, I needed something dramatic to happen and I didn't see any sort of future for him in this story. Sorry x**

**Right, so I'm taking a break before part 3 to write my SYOT, Fear Lies Within. I'm almost there with tributes, only about 7 or so more! If you want to submit one so I can get started, therfore finishing it quicker, leading to part 3 being written sooner, then please do! I need _your _tribute! Also, during my break, feel free to read my SYOT, I would love it if you read some of my other stuff too x**

**So, Zinny will see you guys in a while, but until then, thank you everyone and I look forward to writing my SYOT!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx xxx (extra kisses cuz it's the end and I love you)**


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